Oscar
by Neiths Arrow
Summary: A series of episode tags that involve our favorite Colonel. This stems from my curiosity about what happens when he is alone after each mission. Warning: It has dark moments. Sorry, no 'ships' in this one.
1. Prologue

Oscar

By Neiths Arrow

Summary: A series of episode tags that involve our favorite Colonel. This stems from my curiousity about what happens when he is alone after each mission.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Stargate story or characters (MGM Television Entertainment). However, the original characters are my own. I'm not making a profit from this fic.

Author's Note: Thank you Diane for spending some of your valuable time correcting my grammar, spelling, word choices, and characterization inconsistencies – you really and

truly give me that little extra umph to post my stories. Thank you to my online friends for their encouragement to write and post.

sg1sg1sg1sg1sg1

Prologue

Retired Colonel Jack O'Neill, leisurely carried his cup of coffee and newspaper outside for a peaceful morning read in the seclusion of his backyard. It had been six months since his return from the planet Abydos and the painful discovery that his life on Earth had changed once again. The raw wound of his failed marriage to Sara was still seeping and painful. But for the first time since his return to Earth, he felt at home. His peaceful daily routines had helped to scab over the gaping hole in his heart where the laughter of his son still echoed. Though he may not have realized it, each day of survival gave him the skills he needed to live with the absence of the best thing that had ever happened to him. He was coming to terms with his solitary existence. One morning, he had awakened to realize that the curtain of blackness that had descended over his life was finally lifting. This realization came with the sweet sound of chirping birds on a warm spring morning. Since his new house rested at the border of wilderness, Jack had had a chance to experience the healing cycle of nature. So complete was his immersion into this new life that he was even pondering the commitment to get a dog.

Rather than staying in the house where the painful memory of his son's accidental death would haunt him, Jack had allowed his wife to have the home. She had asked her father to move in to fill up the emptiness and this absolved Jack of the responsibility of caring for a wife he had vowed to protect. The grieving airman moved on, and it didn't take him long to purchase a house of his own. The new place suited his personality well and provided the perfect deck from which to view the stars. Jack had a renewed interest in astronomy since his travel to another solar system. Sometimes he questioned whether the events of the past year had occurred at all. If he chose to think about it, which he did not, he would have been amazed by how different his life had been a year ago. At that time, he had a beautiful wife and child as well as a steady career as an officer in the United States Air Force. After the death of his son, he had decided he no longer wanted to live. His lack of availability to his wife had caused the dissolution of his marriage. After the death of his son, the only comfort left to him was his wife. But the grieving and guilt-ridden man denied himself this comfort – and as a result denied her as well. The wounded family couldn't take the further stress, so it shattered.

After his return from Abydos, Jack found the house emptied of his wife's belongings. He had walked in far enough to read her good-bye letter and decisively packed a bag before leaving for good. The haunting echoes of life in the old home would quickly destroy the spark of life ignited by a geeky scientist named Daniel Jackson. As Jack left, he literally closed the door on that chapter in his life. Since Daniel had asked him to tie up loose ends, Jack was able to stay in the archeologist's apartment until his lease finished. Jack paid the rent and remained until he found his current house. Due to the catastrophic events in his life, the Air Force shrink insisted he be evaluated for ongoing therapy needs. Jack balked at the suggestion. When they countered that they would make it a term of continued benefits, Jack insinuated that he would reveal the Air Force's planned involvement in his suicide mission. He was quietly allowed an unhindered retirement instead.

The unplanned retirement had been beneficial. While secluded from the world, it had allowed Jack to pick up the pieces of his life and redefine who he was. Though he would never recover from the death of his son, he had found ways to live with the pain. It was no longer a bottomless pit of despair and guilt. Light and hope had reached him in the form of one Daniel Jackson. Jack shook his head with an incredulous smirk at the memory of the geek's audacity and bravery. A sudden noise in the brush behind his house caused Jack's laid-back musings to be abruptly interrupted; his quick reflexes triggered his body to assume a combat-ready posture. He relaxed a bit, but remained on alert. An outside observer would have only noticed a deepening of his breathing and widening of his pupils.

After hearing further noise, Jack went to cautiously investigate. He heard short, agonized wheezing from under a bush. Carefully parting the leaves, Jack was surprised to see startling green eyes glaring back at him from the darkness. He raised one inquiring eyebrow and tilted his head before questioning, "Hello! Who are you?"

The mangy ball of fur didn't respond other than to lay its ears back against its head at the sound of a human voice. Jack squinted to study the critter more closely. From the wide shape of the head and sinewy body, Jack discerned it to be a Tomcat. Its long fur was matted with both dirt and blood, but it looked gray. One of its ears was recently torn and one eye oozed pus from a nearby scratch. The cat's belly was moving rapidly with fear filled breaths yet it still attempted to look fiercely challenging. Jack took in the appearance of the warrior cat and winced in sympathy. His voice gently questioned, "Hey there fella, been fighting?" Despite the lack of response, the Airman continued. "I know how ya feel, buddy. Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it."

Jack cautiously and slowly sat back on his haunches. He didn't want to scare the critter away. It had been many days since he had talked to anyone. Though the man treasured his newfound seclusion, he missed human contact. Hell, he missed contact of any kind. Jack scowled with a sudden thought. He was a dog person, not a cat person. It somehow felt like a betrayal to the loyal canine species and a betrayal of his own manhood to associate with a cat. Jack surreptitiously looked around to make sure there was no one else around. He shook his head and huffed at his caution. There was no one in his yard and unlikely to be anyone there in the near future, so he didn't need to worry about his reputation. A drawn-out, low-pitched yowl of pain from the bush motivated Jack to make a decision.

As the man abruptly left, the injured cat watched blearily through the gaps in the bushes. The stranger returned after a short time with unfamiliar objects. If the cat had not been so injured, it would have fled. But it had only had enough energy to crawl under the bush after the brutal fight with a much older and more experienced Tom. That had been a couple days ago. Lack of food and water had compounded the injuries and the cat was unable to hunt or jump the fence to find water. He was the type of cat that needed no human. He had been betrayed by them in the past and avoided the unpredictable beings. The Tom had vowed never to rely on their handouts. He was an independent cat and proud of it. But two days of thirst were softening his resolve to refuse help. The cat looked around surreptitiously to make sure there were no other cats around to witness his debasement.

Jack stooped down near the bush. Concerned, brown eyes met green eyes of misery. "Hey there fella. Easy! Just got a little H2O for ya." The tough, retired Colonel slowly pushed a bowl of water toward the inured cat. The caution had two functions: one was to protect his hand from the claws and teeth of an injured animal, and the other was to avoid scaring the cat away. Jack had experienced the danger of skittish felines when he spent time with his grandfather in Minnesota – the elder male unashamedly had a cat and often sat in a rocking chair petting the old animal. One day when a young Jack attempted to imitate his Grandfather's ministrations by petting the cat in his lap, they were both startled by the entrance of a large dog. It wasn't until his heart stopped pounding that he felt the gouges left by the cat's frantic claws.

Shaking off the old memory, Jack returned his attention to the injured animal in his backyard. He would have to make sure to warn Charlie even though the boy would be excited about caring for the animal. Jack's heart lurched in sickening and familiar pain as he remembered his son was gone. The grieving father was getting used to the recovery sequela of intense loss, regret, and guilt before moving on to daily life tasks. He determinedly brought his attention back to the pitiful life before him. Jack doubted if the feline was able to move on its own at this point, so he pushed the bowl of water forward until he saw the cat flinch in pain as it tried to move away. That was his cue to stop, so he left the water and backed away. He sat on the ground about four feet away to watch and wait. The sound of a soft, painful grunt signaled that the cat had risen. Jack smiled slightly when he heard the sound of lapping. But the sound continued past the point of benefit. Jack frowned in worry. "Easy there. Don't drink too much too soon." The sound of a gagging cough confirmed his warning. "Told ya." Any airman who had experienced the Colonel's gruff shouts would have been surprised by the gentleness in the tone. Anyone who had ever experienced the deep love of this man would not.

After the injured cat hobbled back to its spot further under the bush, Jack again moved closer. He had another bowl in his hand. This one contained leftover chicken from his BBQ the day before. He set the chicken near the bowl. This time, the cat didn't even flinch, so Jack risked pushing it closer. The cat waited until he retracted his hand before it sniffed delicately toward the new bowl. But it came no closer. Jack frowned in concern. The cat must be more hurt than he had first thought. It had no interest in food.

:-x

Over the next two days, Jack devoted much of his time making sure the injured feline was supplied with fresh water. Each time, the retired airman was able to move a little closer with the water dish until one day the cat reached forward to sniff delicately at his long fingers. That was Jack's clue that he could tentatively give the cat a little pet on the only part of his body that didn't seem injured – a spot on the top of its head. This was also the first day the critter seemed interested in food. Jack had bought a couple cans of cat food to try to entice the injured animal to build up its strength. He had been bringing a spoonful with him each time he visited the cat. On this day, the cat had at first tentatively sniffed the food and then partially rose to devour the spoonful of food. When the precariously connected food fell onto the dead leaves with a plop, the cat startled, but didn't run away. "Good! Your appetite's back. Oscar, ya gotta build up your strength if you're gonna kick butt next time." Somewhere along the line, and Jack didn't know when it had happened, he had named the unexpected visitor to his backyard. The name, Oscar, seemed to fit the injured, gray cat.

After finishing the spoonful, Oscar slowly blinked his grateful green eyes at the man. Those expressive eyes somehow held a promise to return the favor. Jack went back to get more food. When he returned the cat was gone. The lonely airman had a moment of disappointment at the loss of companionship. He had been enjoying the interaction with . . . something. A quiet 'mrrr' near his foot alerted him to the fact that the cat must have followed him when he went into the house, but it was too injured to climb the steps. The pitiful creature looked worse swaying at the bottom of the steps to his deck than he had under the cover of the bushes. With only slight hesitation, Jack walked with a catlike grace to the creature and stooped down. As he reached a muscled, tan arm to pick it up, he cajoled. "Come on. It's warmer inside and we can wash you up a bit."

It was apparent that the cat had lived outdoors for quite a long time, as his fur was matted and full of dirty oil. Jack set the cat down on the kitchen floor and prepared a plate of food. Oscar watched his every move with sharp eyes darting nervously toward the open door. Jack cautiously walked near the cat and placed the plate of food about four feet away. Oscar got up shakily and sniffed the food before starting to devour the meal. After a couple bites, it looked back to Jack and licked its top lip pointedly. Then it blinked its eyes slowly before turning to continue eating.

"You're welcome," Jack acknowledged. He could tell that Oscar had lived with humans at some point in the past. He scowled in annoyance. The cat had probably been abandoned in the woods by his former owners. Misguided pet owners who tired of their animals often decided to return them to the wild without realizing the domesticated animal would likely perish.

Though initially eager to eat, Oscar quickly tired and made his way to a towel that Jack had thoughtfully laid on the floor. Jack was quick to reassure himself that his motive was to protect his floor rather than to provide comfort to a cat. Thankful that he had already started a fire, Jack went into the next room while leaving the sliding glass door in the kitchen open wide enough for the cat to leave. The last thing he wanted to do was to trap a wild animal against its will. Memories of his own imprisonments rose into consciousness. To avoid this line of thought, he decided to get warm water and a towel to tend to some of the critter's wounds.

:-x

Sometime in the early evening, the injured cat hobbled out to the yard. Jack caught the critter by accident and envied his absolutely silent movement out of the house. Wondering whether the injured cat would return, Jack left the sliding door open despite the cold Colorado evening. When he walked back into the living room the next morning, he saw the cat lift his head warily and guiltily from the floor near the warm fireplace. Jack smirked knowingly. "Hey, I won't tell anyone if you don't."

:-x

Over the next couple weeks, the cat ate more food and his wanderings outdoors became more frequent. It was several days before Jack realized that Oscar hadn't returned. Somewhere along the line, the cat had graduated to dry food, so Jack didn't notice the food had been untouched. With a slight sigh of regret at losing his guest, Jack finally closed the sliding glass door to his backyard.


	2. Year One

Oscar

By Neiths Arrow

:-x

Year One

Daniel Jackson carried a steaming hot cup of coffee through the sliding glass door to Jack's well-kept backyard. His year on Abydos had left him with a serious craving for the roasted java concoction. The misplaced archeologist was currently staying with Jack while looking for an apartment of his own. Daniel's first priority had been to go shopping to make sure the airman had coffee – the correct type of coffee – available; the younger man had even purchased a new coffeemaker as a 'gift' for letting him stay at the house. It also ensured a continued mechanism to enjoy coffee at his only friend's home.

Jack made no mention of the fact that he rarely drank coffee. It was enough that he had company in his home again – even though it was the unlikely company of a scientific geek. It just happened to be the same geek who had managed to save his life on Abydos the year before.

Daniel mused about the past year of bliss with his wife, Sha're. She had often accompanied her husband as he explored the ruins on the desert planet. Like anyone who cared about Daniel, she had quickly taken on the role of making sure he ate on a regular basis and got sufficient sleep. His eyes crinkled slightly with mirth as he remembered some of the techniques she had used to entice him home. But his eyes quickly widened in horror and guilt as he remembered her abduction by the Goa'uld, Apophis. Sha're's gentle spirit was currently being subjugated by a sick parasite. Daniel missed her caring ministrations to the very bottom of his soul. The bereft husband closed his eyes against the tears collecting there and lowered his head in defeat. With a start, he straightened and stood up quickly to return to the house. It wouldn't help anyone if he wallowed in a pit of despair. His facial expression hardened into a rigor of determination. He couldn't stay here any longer; they must begin their search before Apophis disappeared too far into the maze of Stargates.

As Daniel started to enter the house, he noticed something that had not been there before. A mostly dead mouse lay twitching on the ground in front of the sliding glass door. The young man's lip curled in revulsion as he involuntarily jumped back in disgust. "Ughhh!" He couldn't help looking more closely at the pathetic creature. Bloody puncture wounds peppered the critter's body making it clear that it would not survive long. It was obvious that it was suffering and should be euthanized, but Daniel didn't think he could handle more killing. What he had experienced on Ra's ship had been enough. Sensing a presence in front of him, Daniel looked up into the quiet, knowing eyes of Jack O'Neill.

The airman was dead silent as he looked into the younger man's face. With a low tone he commented, "I'll take care of it, Daniel. Why don't you go inside for a minute."

Daniel nodded mutely and sidled past the airman through the doorway. He went into the guest room to look at his sparse belongings one more time. When he returned, he found Jack at the kitchen sink washing his hands. He felt guilty for having Jack do the dirty work. "Thank you, Jack. I um!" Daniel crossed his arms insecurely over his chest. "I probably should have . . . you know." He gestured with his thumb toward the patio entrance before crossing his arms more tightly.

Jack met his eyes briefly as he wiped his hands very thoroughly on the kitchen towel. "Not a problem, Daniel."

Daniel frowned. "So what's with the dead animals? That's the second time this week. You need to do something about the stray cats."

Changing the subject, Jack asked, "So, you ready? Carter said she found // double finger quotation marks // the perfect apartment for you."

Daniel risked some sarcastic play. "You trying to get rid of me?" When he received no response, the spectacled young man continued. "Yeah, just give me a minute. I need to get my // mumble mumble //." His voice faded as he walked away.

Jack rolled his eyes after Daniel went to get one more thing. Jeez, he doesn't even have that much stuff with him. Sara could get ready faster than Daniel for crying out loud. He scowled in annoyance and wondered if he really did have problems with women. Captain Carter's comment still ran through his mind. He prepared the house for their apartment-hunting excursion. As Jack clasped the lock on the sliding glass door, he suddenly noticed the battle-scarred gray cat sitting calmly just outside. It had its head slightly cocked in silent question with ears alertly pointed toward the airman. Jack paused momentarily and shared eye contact with his furry friend before turning back to the kitchen. "Daniel, it's getting late. We can always come back for it if it's that important." More quietly he mumbled, "It's not like it's the other side of the galaxy or something."

As the man's voice faded away into the warm shelter, Oscar silently contemplated the past week's events. Twice he had tried to repay the human for his kindness by leaving him fresh kills. But he had witnessed the first offering being flung deeply into the bushes. The cat assumed the man was dissatisfied that the meal was already dead, so he made sure to present the second mouse while it was still alive and twitching. Any fresher and the kill might escape. It was puzzling to the feline when the second offering was expertly dispatched before being placed into the covered, plastic treasure chest. Oscar recognized a fellow killer. Though he envied the efficient manner in which the prey had been dispatched, he disapproved of the quickness even though the meal was beyond being a plaything. The gray Tomcat twitched his tail in consternation and then bounded silently into the woods. He would need to think of another way to repay the human. He disliked this debt hanging over his head.

SG1SG1SG1SG1

Jack sat back gingerly onto the couch in front of the roaring fire. It was his first week back after almost freezing to death in the bowels of Antarctica. He had to admit that the mission had given him more than pause for thought. It was the first time he was confronted with being abandoned on a planet with no way home. It made the danger and isolation of Gate travel much more apparent. Though it turned out that they had been on their home planet after all, they might as well have been on another planet. He and Captain Carter were unable to call for help with the equipment they had. Jack remembered struggling to hold on to life while the freezing temperature, pain, and loss of blood drained the warmth from his body. The airman shivered despite the heat of the fire and tried to pull the blanket over his legs. As he reached for the blanket draped over the distant armrest, his hand was deliberately attacked from beyond his view. "Argh!" He shouted out in surprise and almost fell off the couch. After he painfully caught his breath, Jack cautiously and gingerly rotated to sit near the far end of the sofa. He saw a self-satisfied gray cat contentedly and smugly licking its paw – probably the paw with which he had swatted the unsuspecting human.

Jack contemplated revenge, but decided to bide his time. It wasn't like he was at his best right now. "Hey! How'd you get in here anyway?" Silent, blinking eyes met his puzzled query. Jack thought over the last hour and remembered leaving the door open while he made a painful adventure to empty some trash into the outside trash bin. "Well, you're gonna have to be stuck here for a while. I'm not getting up to open the door for ya." Jack slowly closed his eyes as he sank back to regain control over the deep ache in his side. The cat continued washing unconcernedly in front of the warm fire – his front paw scrubbing over his ear and face. "Suit yourself." Opening his eyes, Jack swallowed before gathering his courage to sit up. Looking over the pain medications and the glass of water he thoughtfully remembered to bring, Jack regretfully downed the pills. He disliked taking drugs of any kind.

The recovering airman winced at the pain as he pulled the blanket over himself and slowly lay back to wait for the medication to ease his discomfort. He probably should have stayed another week in the hospital, but the walls were closing in on him and he needed to recover in the sanctuary of his own home. Janet had kept him in the infirmary for as long as her nurses could take it. She had reminded them that the military frowned on all of them calling in sick at the same time . . . it was called going AWOL. When they looked willing to take the risk, she acquiesced and got his team to agree to watch over him. Jack had skillfully manipulated their babysitting by 'forgetting' to pass on the information that Daniel wished to change his schedule with Sam. Though the Colonel should have felt more pleased with his covert operation, the pain wracking his side and radiating up his leg dulled the edge of his pleasure. Fifteen long minutes later, the pain medications finally took effect and Jack faded into welcome sleep.

He was awakened three hours later by a loud continuous grinding noise. It ceased abruptly at the same time he awoke and closed his mouth. Jack realized he had been snoring. The edge of pain was still dulled and he looked gratefully toward the full bottle of pills. As O'Neill removed his hands from underneath the covers, he was pleased to discover that he was actually too warm. After his stint as an Antarctic Popsicle, he didn't think he would ever feel warm again. With a slight smile of contentment, Jack laid his arms onto his chest. He started to bolt upright when he came in contact with an unfamiliar object, but remembered in time to favor his broken ribs. He looked down toward what had startled him. Dull brown eyes met hooded green slits. Sometime during the nap, Oscar had made a bed of Jack's lower abdomen. While fighting the doping effect of the painkillers, Jack pondered how the cat had managed to climb onto him without waking him. The former Black Ops officer was a very light sleeper and was known to attack people who made the mistake of touching him before he awoke. Jack reached an arm over to snag the bottle of medications from the coffee table. They must be stronger than he thought.

Oscar looked into the sleepy brown eyes of the human. He had climbed onto the belly because he remembered the warmth and pleasantly rhythmic cycling of human breathing. The human also apparently enjoyed the contact because he had been purring . . . quite loudly. It stopped as soon as he woke up. The gray cat added to his store of knowledge that humans apparently could not purr while awake. Oscar closed his eyes trustingly and resumed his own purring to lull the human back to sleep. It was obvious that the man had been injured and Oscar was glad to facilitate the comfort of healing sleep. After all, sleep was always a good thing. The human soon joined in Oscar's contented purrs.

Hours later, the remaining members of SG-1 determined that they had been cleverly outmaneuvered. They arrived at the Colonel's house to begin the arduous task of helping the airman while he recovered from his injuries. Sam was reminded of her father's bouts with illness or injury. Luckily, she had had practice as a young girl with Jacob Carter's military stubbornness and knew to provide the bare minimum of care to the Colonel. She was determined to mostly stay of out of the way.

Teal'c felt the job of nursing was strictly for females, but he missed O'Neill's gruff company. He could not admit this yet because he was uncertain about the customs of this planet. The former Jaffa commander was uncertain how to express friendship outside of a kin or mentor relationship. On this planet, it appeared that affection between males was frowned upon. He had yet to observe O'Neill softening his military persona in voice or action. Teal'c decided he would observe the interactions between Daniel Jackson and Colonel O'Neill for a while before committing his friendship to the Tauri commander.

Meanwhile, Daniel was plain annoyed at Jack's antics. He couldn't understand why his stubborn friend was refusing care. The archeologist had seen the Colonel at his worst and lived to tell about it. They had been through a lot together and Daniel thought they were friends. The younger man had reached through Jack's hardass military demeanor from their first mission together. He knew that underneath that gruff exterior was . . . a gruff interior. But that wouldn't stop him from helping his friend, despite his orneriness.

Sam Carter stopped her teammates at the front door. "Guys! How are we going to get inside?"

Daniel looked at her furtively as he placed his hand on the knob. "He doesn't lock it." Sam looked startled so Daniel explained. "He said they don't lock anything in Minnesota, so . . . ." Knowing that that didn't explain anything, the archeologist shrugged and continued to turn the doorknob. As Daniel opened the door, a gray blur ran past his feet, It startled everyone but Teal'c who had heard the critter's soft vocalizations from behind the thick door. This was further proof to him that humans had inferior hearing ability. He made no comment and took point into O'Neill's home.

Jack was sitting calmly on the couch drinking a hot cup of coffee. "What took you guys so long?" The long, undisturbed sleep in the seclusion of his own home had done wonders for both his disposition and his health. He silently thanked Oscar for his unobtrusive company and mesmerizing calmness, which helped him to sleep. Jack wondered if the cat understood the benefits he had brought. Jack dismissed the thought. However grateful he was to the critter, it was still just a cat. Jack was glad the fur ball had left because he would have had a hard time defending his tough reputation if word got out. He had trouble meeting Teal'c's pointedly curious eyes.


	3. Year Two

AN: Thank you isabel for your encouraging feedback. You made my day, too (smile). And this story has nothing to do with the furry creature sitting (okay sleeping) in my living room.

SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1

Oscar - Year Two

By Neiths Arrow

Warning: This chapter is a little dark.

:-x

Year Two - Secrets

The lone occupant of the darkened room contemplated his past deeds as a Special Forces operative. He was sickened by the similarities between the death of the reporter Armand and his own experience with the assassination of various undesirables throughout his career. By returning to duty in the Air Force, he though he had left the blackness of those years behind. Never once had he performed his 'duty' on American soil. It would somehow sully the purity of his motives. He had thought he was fighting for the good guys. Now, the disillusioned airman had his doubts.

A 'mrrr!' and slight stirring on his lap let him know he had been lost in thought once again, so he resumed stroking the soft fur. Jack O'Neill didn't speak and quickly lost consciousness of the fact that he was stroking the stray cat that had once again snuck into his home. Jack ran through each mission to determine if he could identify the operative. He knew there were some sick bastards within Black Ops who would stop at nothing to experience the joy of killing once again. Those dangerous wolves in thin clothing of civility were rarely on home soil. It seemed the higher ups didn't want such sickness in their midst, so they were kept overseas.

Oscar enjoyed the human's distraction. It was only when he sat in darkness that the human groomed his fur. It reminded the young feline of when his mother used to lick his fur with her proportionally large tongue. Though the humans didn't appear to use their tongues for washing, their long-toed paws did well for that purpose. Oscar pushed his head into the conforming paw and basked in the attention. He soon fell asleep.

The cat was startled awake when the human grabbed a handful of his fur suddenly. In retaliation and self-defense, Oscar wrapped his unsheathed front claws around the human's arm and bit down until he was released. He bounded out of the dark cave to the safety of the outdoors.

Jack stared down at the puncture wounds and claw marks on his arm as he washed the blood away distractedly. He mind was on another time – other blood. He was still pondering what had caused him to clench his body in a rigor of remembrance. The cold, soulless eyes that had haunted him ever since the mission in the early 90's came back into his waking memory. He had been so horrified by the actions of the assassin that he had given up his career in Black Ops and moved back to team Special Ops missions.

Back then, O'Neill had begun to see a hint of those soulless eyes looking back at him from the mirror each morning after his solo missions. It scared him enough to make him quit because it had felt obscene to have such evil lurking inside him while touching his innocent son. Sara may never have learned of his past deeds, but she was aware of the shift in his attitude when her husband left the dangerous work.

Back in the present, the Airman noted that it was surprisingly easy to revert back to his past behavior. Black Jack, as he was known back then, planned his revenge.

:-x

Oscar had stayed away from the Human's den for almost a week. The memory of the attack was still fresh in his mind. But the memory of the easy food and companionable warmth drew him back. He watched from a tree branch while the tall one stealthily entered the rear sliding glass door in the middle of the night. The door was left partially opened in invitation, so the silent cat slinked into the home. He jumped on the back of the couch to sit near the fellow warrior. He could sense the human's satisfaction over a well-executed hunt and kill. Oscar understood this feeling well. Both killers hid in the silent comfort of darkness while waiting for the sanity of daylight.


	4. Year Three

Year Three - Snake Queen

Jack O'Neill waved a dismissive 'Thanks' to the airman who dropped him off at home. The Colonel paused in the driveway to look at his house. He had a momentary flash as he wondered if this was real or another Goa'uld mock up. Jack's thoughts returned to the feeling he had had when walking through the familiar, yet unfamiliar halls of the SGC. He explored whether he had the same feeling now – while standing in his driveway. After a moment, he shook his head in disbelief at his paranoia and continued up the drive.

Jack yanked the Domino's Pizza circular from his door handle with annoyance. He wondered if there were any idiots who actually bought pizza based on the bothersome litter attached to doors all across America. Deciding to bring the offending material directly to the trashcan, the tall Colonel walked to the side of the house. As he raised the lid of the can, something caught his eye. He looked at the circular more closely and read about the two for one meat-lovers special. His eyebrows raised and his lips pursed in admiration for the deal. He folded the coupon and placed it in his back pocket for later.

Jack continued into his backyard and decided to enter through the sliding glass door. As usual, when he was home now, he kept the back door partially open. He thought about installing a small door for Oscar, but frowned quickly at the idea. It wasn't like he had a pet for crying out loud, and especially not a cat. No, this was a matter of convenience. Though he wanted to be alone right now, that solitude didn't exclude company of the four-legged variety. They didn't ask questions. They didn't ask how he was feeling about having a fing snake jam itself painfully into the back of his neck. Wasn't the answer obvious? Why did they want him to say it?

Jack eased himself back onto the couch with a sigh of relief. Even when they didn't ask the question, he could see it in their eyes. He had even caught Fraiser looking at him with concern and what looked suspiciously like pity. Carter had looked at him with a knowing look in her eyes. Let her believe what she wanted. But this was nothing like being taken by a Tok'ra. The agony inflicted upon him inside his own head to make him surrender control was unimaginable. This was not like the insidious unfolding of information from the ancient download either. This was more like a spike of pure evil trying to forcefully wedge itself into the core of what was Jack O'Neill. He shuddered in his place on the couch. Now that he was really home, he could explore his actions during the events and determine if he could have done things differently. He had gotten into this habit after each mission to preclude future mishaps.

But his thoughts kept returning to the more recent past on base. Was he avoiding thinking about 'it' like the Quack Doc said? His head raised to look searchingly at the ceiling when today's session came to mind. In the solitude of his home, he remembered how Daniel looked at Jack almost like he had betrayed him. In the mandatory group session led by Dr. MacKenzie, Daniel came to realize that he had started to go through the stages of grief. A grief with which he was very familiar due to the loss of his wife Sha're to Goa'uld possession. It seemed that the two, younger teammates were trying to foist attention on Jack's ordeal and minimize their own to avoid their feelings. Jack didn't want to deal with his feelings on the matter so publicly, so he remained silent during the 'sharing.' His only pleasure was watching MacKenzie get more and more aggravated at what he perceived was Jack's silent sabotage. Teal'c was almost unreadable, but Jack could sense a renewal of his resolve to defeat the Goa'uld. He thought, 'I'm with you there, big guy.' They shared a knowing look while the group continued talking.

The touchy feely gladness from the whole of SGC was unbearable to the returned airman. It seemed everybody was glad to have their premier team back amongst the living. Even General Hammond got into the fray by privately telling the Colonel how relieved he was to have him back. The rescue of SG-1 represented hope in the fight against the Goa'uld and confirmation of their power to defeat this enemy. This morale building Jack could understand, so he tolerated it. Just the same, his forced quarantine on base was agony, and he couldn't wait to go home.

Deciding to take a nap, Jack laid back on the couch and slowly closed his eyes. Sensing that something wasn't quite right, he opened his eyes only to find a large, alien face looming inches from his. Jack involuntarily shouted out, scaring Oscar into retreating a couple of feet away. Jack tried to slow his pounding heart and even out his quick breaths. He placed a hand unconsciously onto his heart. He huffed, "Don't do that!" With his heart rate almost back to normal, Jack took pity on the uncertain cat. "C'mere." The anticipating cat leaped forward and shoved his large, scarred head into the warm human's hand for a pet.

Oscar was glad he hadn't misinterpreted the invitation to visit with his friend. Warm Tall, as the human was affectionately known, had been gone for quite a while on his last hunt. Oscar tried to puzzle why he never came back with his kill. He wondered how big the prey must be and what methods the human used to kill it. He could sense disquiet in his friend and he attempted to provide his calming presence, but Jack was too twitchy to sit still. So Oscar remained quietly in the sidelines . . . not in the way, but not out of sight. He wanted to be available when Jack needed him. For now, he followed the movements with his head and green eyes.

:-x

Jack busied himself by cleaning the house. Thoughts of the last month kept invading his mind. Every time he passed the television, he thought about the painful recall device that sucked images from his head. He avoided dusting his coffee table because it looked too much like the confining platform where he was strapped, waiting to be infested. Jack went to clean the bathroom instead, but the brass fixtures reminded him of the gaudy gold in the hallways of Hathor's base. As he tried to avoid the many reminders of his ordeal, Jack left all his tasks unfinished. He was accomplishing nothing. He finally sat back on the couch in front of the offending coffee table to face his fears. He closed his eyes and his thoughts were invaded by the image of Hathor's hand coming to grab his face with her vivid green eyes in the background. The helplessness and fear he had felt at that moment overwhelmed him just before the memory of the painful invasion came back at full force.

Jack screamed out in rage, "Noooo!" He grabbed the edge of the coffee table and slung it into the television. The resulting explosion spurred on his rage as he began throwing any reminders of the ordeal. The sounds of smashing glass and destroyed furniture were punctuated by obscene curses and barely-recognizable-as-human grunts and growls of rage. Oscar kept himself protected by retreating into another room. He growled in sympathy as he remembered a recent fight with another Tom Cat. Jack's frenzy resembled the blur of fur, claws, and teeth that he had experienced. The noises in the other room were quieting, with longer pauses as the human tired.

Jack felt the tears running down his face as he looked at the mess that was his living room. His breathing had been reduced to shuddering sobs as he sat on the floor in exhaustion. He had his back resting against his overturned couch while sobbing his rage into his hands. The feelings that he had been avoiding overwhelmed him as he loudly cried out his frustration and anger through clenched teeth. Moments after his sobs quieted to out-of-breath sniffling, he felt an insistent, but soft bang under his elbow. He opened bloodshot and teary eyes to see Oscar rubbing the length of his body soothingly along Jack's side. Oscar sat with his tail curled around Jack and the top of his head touching the man's trunk. This resulted in a comical upside down look as Jack lowered his gaze to the cat.

Jack began laughing while tears of relief continued to stream from his eyes. "You're right, cat. It's all okay now." He ruffled the cat's fur affectionately. The airman gave a long, shuddering sigh while looking up at the ceiling - then wiped his face before getting up to straighten out the house.

:-x

As the rest of SG-1 walked into Jack's living room for Team Night, they all noticed the change immediately and paused in question.

Jack acted puzzled by their reaction, "What?"

Daniel was the first to break the silence. His deep frown changed into questioning raised eyebrows. "New TV, Jack?"

Jack stood in the middle of his living room and bounced on his feet with pride. "Yup. I decided it was about time to get a big screen television." His statement was met with silence. He gave a disarming grin. "It's great for watching sports." His smile and the twinkle in his eye caused the two younger members to exchange a dubious look.

Teal'c broke the silence. "I believe the larger screen will display "Star Wars" to greater advantage, O'Neill." Jack raised his eyebrows in appreciation for the comment and nodded.

Though Sam and Daniel wondered about the changes they saw in the house, they didn't question it. They were just glad to have Jack back as himself and whole once again – he exuded familiar peace. They didn't care how it was managed.


	5. Year Four

AN: Sorry guys, but this will be the last chapter for a while. I'm in the middle of writing Year Five, but haven't finished it yet. Luckily, this isn't a cliffhanger type fic . . . yet. (grin)

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Year Four – The Other Side

The large, green pickup truck pulled into the driveway just after the young boy walked by with his dog. The pair waited in anticipation as the driver gathered his belongings. The dog eagerly pulled the boy off balance in order to reach the friendly man. Jack was bumped from behind as the black Labrador body slammed him in eagerness to have as much body surface touching the man as possible. Jack smiled in delight at the greeting. He was careful not to slam the truck's heavy door on the dogs rapidly wagging tail. Before crouching down to be closer to the dog, Jack checked out the neighborhood for danger. His habitual alertness was a practice he didn't wish to break. But the hollow bang of a fur-wrapped tail on his truck demanded his attention.

Jack crouched down to greet the dog. "Hey there fella. It's good to see you too." He grabbed the dog's head in mock wrestling. The animal playfully opened his mouth to slime Jack's arm while gently growling. As the wrestling got more intense, the dog's ability to be gentle was compromised. He started growling more forcefully.

The boy noticed that the Colonel looked around ten years younger as he stood up. The smile on his face looked relaxed, but there was a hint of sadness there as well. The boy innocently questioned, "Jack, how come you don't get another dog?"

Ten years seemed to wash into the Colonel as the smile ghosted off his face. The last time he had seen the boy, he had revealed that he used to have a dog. It was only natural that the inquisitive youngster would pursue the subject. "I'm not home enough, Josh." At the pout of disappointment that came over the boy's face, Jack smiled and ruffled the boy's hair in fondness.

The boy's mother had joined them. She looked at the Colonel with a knowing look of apology. "I'm sorry, Jack."

Before Jack could respond, Oscar decided to run across the front lawn on his way to the backyard. They were all caught unaware as the dog jerked the leash out of the boy's hand to pursue the escaping cat. The cocky gray cat often teased the larger dog by sitting nonchalantly on the window-sill. The Lab barked in glee at his unhindered pursuit of the hated cat. His bellowing bark was cut short abruptly as the taut leash hindered his progress. He bayed his disappointment and looked back quickly in annoyance only to see his gray-haired friend holding him back. The dog sat back resignedly, but kept his eye on the corner of the house in case the offensive feline came back. His mouth hinged open as he panted with eager diligence.

The boy's mother turned her attention back to the Colonel and smiled with wry relief. "Thank you. We might never have gotten him back."

Jack shrugged dismissively as he handed the leash back to the little boy. He crouched down to meet the youngster eye to eye. "You better hang onto him."

The boy lowered his head in thought while Jack slowly stretched back up to his full height. Looking up seriously at the tall man, Josh resolutely offered, "Jack, you can share my dog anytime you want."

The tough Air Force Colonel widened his eyes in surprise and nodded his appreciation of the sincere and generous offer. He paused in appreciation before replying. "Thanks, Josh." He smiled up at the mother as she pulled her reluctant son and dog away from the yard.

As he made his solitary trek to the front door, Jack remembered the last dog he had had. He walked slowly into the kitchen – his face was blank as the memories flooded his mind. He could still feel the squirming armload of puppy as he walked into the house that day. Charlie had come running around the corner screaming, "Dad!" The look on Charlie's face when he saw the dog had been priceless. Jack involuntarily grinned as he remembered the delight. In the present, his face unconsciously mirrored the wince he wore at the "look" from Sara. After she forgave him, she had revealed her perspective of the day. She had seen twin looks of delight on both his and Charlie's faces. Charlie's look was because he was so happy to get the dog, and Jack's because he was so happy to see his son's delight. When Sara had asked him why he got the dog, Jack had responded cryptically, "Every kid needs a dog." She quickly came back by looking at him pointedly. "Apparently so."

Jack was away on a mission when the dog fell ill and died. He sniffed and shook his shoulders to rid himself of the memory. That was another time and another life. He got up to get another beer. Just as he reached for the handle to the refrigerator, he felt a sharp tickle on his arm. Looking quickly he pulled his arm while hitting it quickly to shake off the big, huge spider that had landed there from its web. "Gah!" Not wanting the insect to run around the house while he slept, Jack looked around for something to kill it. He shuddered in disgust. "Damn!" The roll of paper towels was empty. He looked down quickly to see that the spider was still on the floor where it had fallen. Jack took off quickly to get a new roll from the garage. He swiftly moved back into the kitchen just in time to see Oscar standing near the refrigerator chewing something. The cat leaned his head down to release half of the spider onto the floor. Jack jumped forward to snag the bug remains, but not before the cat's paw slammed down on the still wriggling arachnid. The cat's eyes rapidly shifted from black to green slits as he returned to sanity. He ran off into the living room leaving Jack to clean up the remains. He grumbled, "This is so getting old." He carried the paper-towel shrouded spider remains to the kitchen trashcan.

:-x

Jack was awakened by a noise later that night. The sound came from the kitchen area. He was on high alert as he walked down the hall toward the noise. It sounded like a rhythmic thumping. As O'Neill rounded the corner, the noise continued. He turned the corner into the kitchen to see the back end of a gray cat sticking out of the overturned trashcan. He shook his head and moved to touch the preoccupied cat. As he cautiously touched the gray hindquarters, Oscar turned around quickly. Jack jumped back as Oscar stood on his hind legs to jump on him. Jack noticed the metal protruding from the front paws just as he heard the telltale sound of Replicator motion. Jack was trapped against the edge of the counter as the metal creature jumped at him.

Jack screamed his rage as he fought against the confining bedclothes. He sat up in bed with widened eyes. Looking around his room, he saw that Oscar was quietly sleeping at the foot of his bed. Jack closed his eyes with weary relief. It was a dream. He flopped back down and slowed down his breathing. He wearily rubbed a hand over his eyes. He should have known his near death in the submarine hadn't been without consequences. He lay there and thought about this new threat. It increased his resolve to eliminate the threat from the Goa'uld. They needed to step up the action in order to concentrate on the greater threat presented by the Replicators. After a time, Jack gave up and decided to go to the base early. He wasn't likely to sleep anytime soon.

:-x

Sometime during the trip back to Earth through the Stargate, Black Jack made his reappearance. "Close the Iris." His voice was chillingly deliberate and deadly as he ordered the probable murder of the Eurondan leader. It would have been frightening to him how quickly he returned to being that monster, but Jack O'Neill was incapable of feeling at that moment. He had gone beyond human to a darker existence. His eyes locked onto the face of his 2IC. A sick part of him reveled in the fact that she knew what he had done. A much smaller part of him hoped her innocence would be enough to call him back to humanity.

All activity and sound in the room was heightened into sharp clarity in his altered state of mind – he felt omnipotently powerful. O'Neill removed his gaze from Carter's face for a moment as he answered the General. "Don't be." He returned to looking coldly into Samantha Carter's eyes. He clearly saw her thought processes as she sanely tried to justify his action, denied the truth, and then accepted his action for what it was. He saw the quick flash of fear in her eyes that she bravely masked. He held her gaze effortless and guiltlessly. She looked down and nervously swallowed her disbelief for future processing. But Jack was beyond caring what she thought of him. He had just prevented another Hitler from walking the Earth. They should be grateful. He very briefly pondered eliminating the only person who knew the truth. This should have frightened him, but Black Jack had no such self-doubt.

O'Neill went through the motions of getting a post-mission physical before taking a quick shower and changing. The former Black Ops officer had been taught to be prepared at all times to eliminate the enemy, so he mentally practiced how to efficiently kill each person he encountered. His destination was a quick and private debriefing with General Hammond. There was no way Jack was going to do this in front of his team. He didn't trust his dark self to stay inside. As he left the General's office, he missed the look of concern that passed over Hammond's face. George recognized the distant, deadly look and hoped he wouldn't lose another good man.

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The Colonel drove away without a backwards look. In his rearview mirror he saw Daniel waving him back, but he kept on driving. Carter did not wave. He could see her stunned and still figure standing beside a puzzled Daniel.

Jack drove around the back roads of Colorado Springs in the hopes that something would trigger his feelings to return. He finally stopped by the side of the road and took a hike on a hidden trail. His thoughts swirled with cold clarity while he contemplated his current state of mind. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. He wanted to remain hidden. In the past, when he got this way on Black Ops missions, his love for Charlie had brought him back to humanity. Now he remembered why he had purchased the dog. Jack suspected that Sara knew of the need for that bit of normality to return her husband. The pull of all-consuming love reawakened Jack while shoving the Dark Colonel back to where he belonged. The Dark Colonel was only supposed to come out when there was work to be done, but sometimes the lid wouldn't entirely close on the cold killer inside.

His team had also been able to bring him back from the dark place. He recalled the times that Teal'c's uncanny wisdom, Daniel's curious determination, and Sam's sharp clarity had recalled him back to himself after dicey missions. But not this time. Jack had not gone this far since his days in Black Ops. O'Neill wondered if the Eurondan weapon had done something to him. He quietly breathed his resignation and returned home in the hopes that time would push the darkness back down.

Jack drove past Samantha Carter's car to pull into his driveway. He got out of his car to meet her as she stood guardedly. She leaned back on her car with her hands behind her back and still attached to her door handle as she waited for him to approach. Her chin was raised warily and her eyes twitched away hesitantly. She had the look of someone about to confront an unknown. He saw the moment she realized he had not yet returned to himself. Her eyes looked down and away in disappointment, but flew back up and over as a black blur swiftly crossed the street. The sound of a screaming cat, growling dog, and a boy screaming, "No!" occurred simultaneously.

Jack reached for his sidearm as he saw the dog reach his objective. The gray cat was flung against the side of the house with a sickening bang. It lay there dazed and helpless while the dog returned in frenzy to his attack. Jack O'Neill had a moment of indecision as he heard the boy's frantic cries. With purposeful movements, he removed his hand from his gun and looked for another means to stop the attack. He caught the fact that the cat was limp in the dog's mouth as the dog viciously shook his head flinging blood onto the wall. Jack spied a method and ran over to effect a rescue.

The Black Lab was startled by a blast of ice-cold water that splashed into his face. He stopped his frenzied snarling and dropped the cat into a boneless heap. Jack grabbed the dog's leash and handed it to the boy's frantic mother. A quick look to Carter gave her a silent order to make sure the dog didn't escape again and to make sure the family was safe from the now docile dog. He ran over to the heap of gray fur and gently straightened out the body. His whispered, "Oscar, no!" would have been inaudible, but Carter was already back at his side. She was startled by the naked anguish in his eyes as he looked around for what to do.

"Sir." Carter took off her jacket to be used as a makeshift stretcher. Jack's bloody hands gently lifted the unconscious creature onto the jacket. "Colonel, we can use my car."

Sam opened the passenger side and assisted the Colonel in getting in without jostling the cat further. As she reached over to fasten his seat belt, she could see a large rip in the fur with exposed ribs on one side of the poor creature. She didn't know if he would survive. The fact that her CO had called the animal by name was her first clue that this was not just any cat. They would try to save this animal by bringing it to the veterinarian. Besides, she had seen too much death in the past couple of days.

:-x

They flew into the emergency veterinarian's office. Their hurried actions alerted the staff that they had an emergency on their hands. Staff whisked the injured cat into a back examination room, and the veterinarian followed closely on their heels. Jack O'Neill was gently held back by the office assistant. "Mr. O'Neill. You'll need to sit in the waiting room." There was a moment of indecision while Jack contemplated disobeying the petite woman. They all breathed a sigh of relief when his shoulders slumped and he turned away to pace the room.

The elder veterinarian came out and immediately called Jack up to the front desk. "Oscar is in bad shape, I'm afraid."

"Can you save him doc?" Jack's intense brown eyes held the doctor's gaze steadily.

"This won't be cheap, Jack. And there are no guarantees he'll survive. He's had a good life. Are you sure you want to . . . . " The doctor trailed off. His gentle, understanding eyes giving the man permission to let the cat go.

After only a slight hesitation, Jack lowered his gaze and responded breathily, "Yeah. Do what you can." Jack looked up suddenly with piercing eyes. "But I don't want him to suffer."

The two men shared a knowing look. In their past dealings, the veterinarian had revealed his history of active military duty. Both had seen their share of suffering. "We'll do what we can, Jack."

After the veterinarian disappeared into the back office, Sam carefully guided her CO to a chair. "Sir, why don't you have a seat." His focus was so intent on the room at the back of the building that he seemed uncharacteristically oblivious to his surroundings. Sam had not missed the fact that the veterinarian and his staff knew the cat and the Colonel by name. She filed this information for later exploration. She would not question the obviously concerned man.

Jack found himself sitting without knowing how he got there. He was startled by a paper cup of water that appeared in front of his face. He looked up and realized belatedly that Carter had probably been calling him a number of times to get his attention. He returned to the present and sheepishly searched her eyes for judgment, but he only found the eyes of a concerned friend. Her gentle voice reassured him that all was okay. "Here's some water for you, Colonel." He gave her a quick upturn of his lips in humbled gratitude.

Sam's blue eyes darted from his hands to his face as he took the cup from her grasp. She cajoled, "Sir, do you think you might want to wash your hands?" She jerked her head subtly to the side to indicate the eyes of a frightened youngster. The boy was clinging tightly to a cage holding his prized pet something or other. The child's eyes were locked onto the bloody hands of Jack O'Neill. Apparently, Jack had been unconsciously trying to rub the blood off his hands. He pondered the fact that he was too used to the sticky feel of drying blood on his hands. He nodded his head in acknowledgement before getting up to go to the restroom.

In addition to giving him something to do, it would give him an excuse to walk by the back room where Oscar was fighting for his life. Jack could hear the doctor calling out orders to staff while they cared for the small feline. It was reminiscent of Doctor Frasier and her team in the SGC's infirmary. Jack sighed as he looked at his worried image in the mirror. He washed his hands and returned to the waiting room . . . to wait. The experienced airman so hated waiting. He was a man of action. But right now, his hands were completely tied. This was almost as bad as when he waited to hear the condition of his team. O'Neill wondered when he had become so attached to this cat. He unconsciously depressed the plunger on a pen and replaced the instrument back where he found it – picking up the container instead.

Samantha Carter couldn't hold it back any longer. The annoyance came out in her tone, "Sir!" Jack looked back sheepishly and replaced the cup of pens that he had been rattling for the past five minutes. By now, they were the only remaining people left in the waiting room since all had been helped over the past two hours they had waited.

A technician came out. "Mr. O'Neill?" Jack fixed his gaze on her expectantly. "Please come with me." Carter automatically followed to provide whatever support that might be needed. The mothering part of her wanted to protect her CO; you couldn't be close to Jack O'Neill without knowing his weakness for children and animals. And she had quickly discerned that this cat was special to him. She wondered why they had never heard of it before. It was apparent that the Colonel and Oscar weren't strangers to the veterinarian.

They were whisked into the back room in time to see the doctor administer a shot to the still unconscious cat. One whole side of the cat's body had been shaved and a line of grotesque sutures zigzagged around his front leg. Jack's voice couldn't hide the anguish in his question, "Doc?"

With weary patience, the veterinarian responded to the unspoken question. "Oscar is stable for the moment. He's suffered a number of severe bites and slashes. We managed to reconnect his flesh. But . . . there's always the danger of infection with any animal bite." He hesitated before continuing. "We would normally keep him overnight for observation, but our facility is being fumigated this evening. You'll need to care for him at home." He looked down at the still cat before raising his head decisively. "We'll leave the IV inserted, and I'll give you enough painkiller that . . . should it become necessary . . . ." He didn't finish, but Jack understood.

:-x

The drive back to his house was quiet as each was caught in his/her own thoughts. Carter broke the silence. "Sir? Whose cat . . . .?" She didn't quite know how to finish the question.

O'Neill contemplated his answer before clearing his throat in discomfort. "Uh! He's a stray." Jack winced into his reflection in the passenger window. He was uncomfortable with the cheapness that word implied. After a long silence while looking out at the passing scenery, he mumbled. "He's been . . . around since just after the first Abydos mission."

Sam widely opened her blue eyes in surprise. She wondered how they had never heard about the creature, but this was Jack O'Neill after all. He wasn't exactly forthcoming with information. The rest of the ride continued in silence.

After they carefully transported the cat into the living room near the fire, Jack sat back nervously on the couch. He knew his curious Major would have more questions and he wasn't exactly comfortable responding. A quiet noise from the box near the fireplace negated the need for conversation. Oscar had awakened.

The frightened cat began to struggle. The quiet, soothing voice of his human friend along with gentle pets along his head eventually calmed him. He felt the warmth of the fire and a strange drugged tiredness as he trustfully started to drift back to sleep.

Jack continued to pet the cat while watching his rhythmic breathing. "It's okay Oscar. You're okay now. Easy there fella." A very brief purr let Jack know that Oscar would be okay. They would win this one.

Sam smiled at the evidence of her CO's gentle, caring nature. The frightening Black Jack was gone for the moment and the familiar person she knew was back. She grinned widely in relief and joy.

Realizing that he had lost himself in caring for Oscar, Jack looked up sheepishly into the grinning face of his 2IC. She was standing up to walk out the door. He thought about the harassment he would get from Daniel and the . . . who knows what from Teal'c. He called to her haltingly, "Hey, uh, Carter?" His thumb unconsciously rubbed against his lips as he contemplated what to ask.

The perceptive major responded, "Don't worry, sir. Your secret's safe with me." She grinned almost evilly as she left the two warriors to heal together.

:-x

Oscar silently pulled his paw back as the beginnings of a creak sounded. He checked that his prey remained unaware of his presence and was satisfied on that front. The only residual effect from the attack was morning stiffness that was relieved with a little extra stretching. The other effect was a strong desire to exact revenge on a certain Black Lab. The subject of the ill will was lying on his side and blissfully sunning himself in his backyard – oblivious to the silently stalking cat. The slight breeze ruffling his fur was the only movement seen on the gray cat as he carefully rerouted and placed each paw on the slanted roof. Oscar had been exploring the roof for the past week to determine his most silent path. He gathered his back legs to his front paws and crouched to leap on his unsuspecting enemy. He flew through the air silently. A sudden slight updraft gave him the buoyancy he needed to land exactly where he wanted. He unsheathed his claws for greater purchase – his eyes were black with fierce anticipation. At the last second he gave a banshee cry of rage and triumph.

:-x

Old Mr. Barnes was enjoying a peaceful morning of gardening when he was startled by a sudden scream of rage, which was quickly followed by the startled, whimpering cries of the dog next door. As quickly as it had begun, it ended. Looking through a knothole in the fence between yards, the old man made sure the dog was okay before assessing the danger. He was just in time to see the tip of a tail disappear through a large crack on the other side of the fence. When relating the story to his wife later, he was unable to tell what color it was, but he thought the tail might have been gray.

:-x

Jack was temporarily blinded by the bright light just before it shifted to the subdued lighting in the commissary. He saw Daniel's face in the background and a spoonful of Fruit Loops in the foreground. He thought, 'God, not again.'

:-x

Oscar silently pulled his paw back as the beginnings of a creak sounded. He checked that his prey remained unaware of his presence and was satisfied on that front. The only residual effect from the attack was morning stiffness that was relieved with a little extra stretching. He observed his prey with some puzzlement. For some reason, Oscar's desire for revenge did not seem as intense as it felt yesterday. . . was that only yesterday? He mentally shrugged and continued his revenge on a certain Black Lab.

:-x

Jack was relieved to be speaking and reading English. If he never saw Latin again it would be too soon. When Daniel had asked how many loops they had been through, Jack truly did not know. He had stopped counting after 50 loops. He suspected that had Daniel asked Teal'c, they would have gotten an exact number. In the end, it didn't matter. He had gotten to do some things without repercussions. He smirked in remembrance of some of them. Feeling eyes upon him, Jack was startled to see Oscar sitting boldly on his front lawn. Ever since the attack, the cat had been edgy and paranoid about being in the open. In fact, he had rarely left the house. Jack had begun to worry that the cat had seriously and permanently lost his Mojo. So Oscar's current behavior was aberrant. Jack frowned in puzzlement.

O'Neill's eyes widened and mouth opened in redundant feelings of horror when he saw the Black Lab round the corner on a leash. Oscar apparently didn't know the dog was there because he sat nonchalantly washing a paw. The tip of his torn ear twitched at the sound of the leash, but he didn't react in any other way. What was more puzzling was the behavior of the dog. As soon as the dog saw the cat, he began whimpering and straining at his leash – to go the other way! Jack called out to his canine friend, "Here boy!" Ben turned around and whined in indecision. He warily looked at the cat as he made his way to his friend. His tail thumped tentatively in indecision. After a couple pets from the man, he sat along the man's leg facing the cat. His tail thumped in pleasure as the man scratched behind his ears. Ben raised his nose in the air to give Jack access to his chin – trusting his friend with his exposed neck. While Jack talked with his human, Ben brought his chin down and rested his head heavily against Jack's knee. He just liked the human's scent. Though he was big like adults, Ben sensed the playful spirit of a child in the man. The sudden strong scent of cat assailed his nostrils and Ben froze in fear. The cat was rubbing against Jack's other leg less than two feet away.

Oscar didn't like to be afraid of anything. While sitting on the lawn watching the Black Devil with Jack, he decided it was time to end this feeling and get his Mojo back. He could sense Jack's apprehension and coiled readiness to react as he trotted to the group with determination.

Jack noticed stiffness in Oscar as he approached. He wondered if it was because of the old injury or if it was due to fear. He readied himself to be the center of a dog and cat fight. The tall man made sure the boy was at a safe distance and he held tightly to Ben's leash. As Oscar rubbed his body against Jack's left leg, he could feel the moment Ben became aware of the cat's presence. A trembling ran through the dog. Whether it was from fear or because he was sniffing the cat was unclear.

Oscar sat stock still in front of Jack while Ben cautiously offered his sensitive nose for sniffing. With inches to go, Ben stopped his forward motion - memories of sharp claws still fresh in his mind. This was the turning point. After a brief hesitation to make a point, Oscar lithely closed the distance and swapped breaths with the dog. Ben had been ashamed of his attack behavior months before and had spent many sunny afternoons contemplating his future actions. He had been embarrassed and afraid Jack wouldn't like him because of his . . . savage behavior. But Jack understood. Ben suspected Jack had occasionally done the same thing in his past. Jack was his friend. And now Oscar Gray Cat was his friend too. He was glad he was apparently forgiven and his face broke out into a happy smile as he panted away his earlier fear.

With only the tip of his tail twitching in annoyance at the gauche tail wagging, Oscar turned his head and slowly blinked his eyes uncaringly. The battle-scarred cat wanted to show off his bravery to any other cats that might be watching him and his large friends.

Jack was relieved. He just wanted peace and quiet after his long, long, looonnnnngggg day. The colonel wondered what Oscar had done during the time loop. He half shrugged and continued on into his house. No sense thinking about it since he would never know.


	6. Year Five

Oscar

Year Five

Stepping out of the men's room, Jack looked up and down the corridor to see if he should continue his conversation, but there was no pesky major in sight. He got the sneaking suspicion that Carter had pulled one over on him, but he didn't have time to investigate the idea. He needed to get back to his meeting with General Hammond. During the less-hurried walk back to his CO's office, Jack contemplated the sorry state of his team.

Daniel was in a snit because he didn't feel his archeological and linguistic skills were being utilized to their fullest on missions. Earlier, over a hurried burrito, he had ranted on the subject with the rapidness of a P-90 on automatic setting. Jack replayed Daniel's outburst in his head. 'We go out on missions to explore possibly the greatest archeological finds of a lifetime – actually more than one lifetime – not that I can ever tell anyone in the academic community about any of it – but that isn't the point – I mean there are whole thriving civilizations that mirror extinct civilizations on this planet, and we barely scratch the surface. Just when I get involved – or as involved as you let me be – because you're always rushing me to hurry up – and you think I'm just looking at rocks – just when I really start exploring, we have to leave. I tried to explain all this to you before the whole time looping thing but you never answered me about your opinion on the subject. I assume it's because it's not as important to you as, say, hockey scores or cleaning your guns and practicing knife throws.' Daniel had stopped at this point to frown – a partially eaten burrito raised in oratory punctuation. He continued with somewhat less enthusiasm as if he realized the ridiculousness of brandishing a burrito at the seasoned airman. Daniel lowered his hand and his voice. 'Jack, what I'm trying to say is that I'm tired of all the soldiering – tired of being rushed through my job – and . . .' he continued more softly '- tired of all the killing.' Jack had been distracted from replying when Teal'c arrived with a tray laden with carbohydrates.

Looking back on the conversation, Jack realized that Daniel had left in a quiet huff since the attention had become focused on making the alien member of SG-1 feel welcome in the commissary. The less-than-surreptitious stares from SGC personnel were downright annoying to the Colonel and probably unbearable to the Jaffa. Teal'c was trying to return to normal after his ordeal with Apophis, but he was constantly reminded of his defection by the untrusting looks he received. Though Teal'c outwardly appeared unaffected by the stares, Jack suspected they were painful. It had taken years for the former First Prime of Apophis to earn the trust and respect of base personnel. Now that trust had been severely shaken, and it wouldn't be easy to reclaim his former position. It didn't help that O'Neill himself was keeping a close watch on the recently returned warrior. One could never be too cautious. It was important to Jack that his trust in Teal'c be absolute, while on a mission he was entrusting not only his own life, but the lives of Carter and Daniel as well.

Jack hesitantly knocked and entered his CO's office. The balding man was still on the telephone. As he was gestured to take a seat by Hammond, Jack thought back to Daniel's accurate assessment of an archeological career – hell, any scientific career – while on SG-1. He grudgingly admitted that the younger man's complaints were valid, but only because Jack was doing 'his' job of protecting Daniel and Carter while they were doing 'their' job of scientific research. Though he made it look easy, Jack O'Neill's job was a precarious balance between staying long enough to allow his team to gather valuable information in their fight against the Goa'uld and staying longer than was prudent without additional backup. Because the Goa'uld had dominated the galaxy for so long, they had an extensive network of Jaffa warriors who had nothing better to do than to monitor activity on old planets – increasing the likelihood they would invade the planet that SG-1 was currently exploring. Because of Teal'c's long experience training and commanding Jaffa warriors, O'Neill relied on him for tactical planning. The Jaffa usually patrolled the outer perimeter due to his extra-sensitive hearing while the Colonel provided much closer protection. Jack was under no illusion that he was irreplaceable – unlike the two National Treasures on his team. At all cost, he and Teal'c needed to protect the two individuals responsible for figuring out the Gate system, advancing Earth's space exploration, and protecting both the SGC and the planet through their expertise in their respective fields.

Speaking of the female member of his team, Jack felt guilty because he hadn't noticed that Carter was breaking under all the stress. He had failed in his duty to protect this valuable member of the SGC. He was very aware of the precious cargo Hammond had entrusted him to protect. The silver-haired airman's stomach turned with regret because he had failed to do so. Sam had always been so strong that he never considered it a possibility that she would need help. Her nervous breakdown – or whatever it was – on the planet could have been avoided if he had only been paying attention. With good intentions, they put her through the embarrassment of wire tapping her house only to find out that it was all probably a hallucination. Despite this 'fact', Jack kept an open mind, but all the intel appeared to negate alien invasion. Though he worried about her current state of mind, he knew the Major's condition was beyond his area of expertise. Janet and her medical team would have to address this situation. In this case, he would have to leave Carter in their very capable hands.

And then there was the matter of Teal'c. Ever since his capture and brainwashing by that scum sucking snake, Apophis, Teal'c had not been reinstated to his hard-won ability to leave the base and wander Earth's surface – even with an armed escort. General Hammond was on the telephone right now with the Joint Chiefs trying to get permission for an excursion away from the SGC. Despite all the Jaffa had done for the planet, they were balking. From a strictly strategic point of view, Jack realized that they were correct. But that still didn't prevent him from sticking his neck out for a member of his team. Unfortunately, right now, he only had one neck and it was sticking out so far it was in danger of dropping his head off. Daniel and Sam would have to wait and care for themselves. O'Neill reasoned that Teal'c was the only alien member of the team and thus needed more intervention by his CO.

Jack refocused his attention to the here and now as it seemed Hammond was nearing the end of his conversation. The junior officer fixed eager eyes on his CO's face to see if he could determine the outcome of the telephone call. It sounded like the same call. This was much more promising than the flat out rejection of a week ago. Both airmen had weighed the strategy of exactly how long to wait between requests – too soon and they would risk a flat out, 'No.'

"Yes sir. I'm aware of that. Yes, sir. We'll do that . . . . I know that, sir. Yes . . . ." He looked toward Jack and pursed his lips tightly while heaving a silent sigh. It wouldn't do to show impatience with one's commanding officer when one was begging for a favor. "Right, sir. Thank you. . . . You won't be disappointed. Yes . . . . We'll do that, sir." He hung up the telephone carefully and left his hand on the receiver before snapping his head up to look up at Jack. "We got the okay, Colonel, but I think we just traded in the SGC's soul in the bargain."

Jack pulled down an imaginary chain with a loud, "Yessss!" When he saw the censure on the face of his CO, O'Neill regained his composure – as befitting a senior officer – by clasping his hands behind his back. "Uh! Thank you, sir."

Hammond's face was still red from the long and unaccustomed begging that he had had to do. "Jack. I don't think I have to tell you about some of the favors I had to pull in for this one."

"Come on, sir." Jack cajoled, "This is Teal'c we're talking about. He's one of the reasons we have those favors to 'pull in' in the first place." Despite the cockiness of his words, Jack had trouble meeting Hammond's eyes. He risked a direct look.

Hammond's eagle eyes stared at him intensely with a face devoid of expression.

O'Neill was, once again, pulled up short from underestimating the General's intelligence. He resorted to using the Eddie Haskell School of compliments to deflect attention. "Right! Sir, thank you for all your supreme effort." That tactic resulted in an annoyed wave of dismissal from his CO. After walking to the door and touching the doorknob, the Colonel turned as an afterthought. "Oh and you are the other reason we have those favors to pull in, sir." The general's pursed smile of disbelief let him know he may have gone too far. He obeyed the silent command to get the hell out of Hammond's office.

Jack continued into the hallway and quietly closed the General's door on the way out. He again pulled the chain with a more quiet, "Yessss," then continued down the hallway to break the news to the big guy. He wondered what Teal'c would want to do with his first outing planet side since his abduction. If Jack had his way, they would do a team thing. God knows they could use some bonding. Now that Teal'c was on his way to becoming trusted again, he could concentrate on the other members of the team. Maybe they could get a pizza and watch a movie at Carter's house. They hadn't had team night in a long time.

In response to the invitation, the Jaffa responded, "O'Neill. Should we not ask Major Carter first before arriving at her home?"

Jack tried to convey assurance with a slight smirk. "Ah come on. This is Carter we're talking about. Remember? I had to order her to get a life." He put his arm around the Jaffa's shoulders. "Besides, she told me she missed you out there." He jerked his finger up toward the surface and left it there. He looked at the tip of his finger and frowned before shaking his hand down and walking purposefully out the door. Teal'c raised his head and sighed stoically. Though O'Neill could be annoying at times, the younger leader of SG-1 had procured permission for him to leave the confines of the base.

Jack flipped his cell phone closed with a snap. He had grabbed the phone back from Teal'c after losing the gamble that the archeologist wouldn't refuse his alien friend. Jack would have to climb that bridge later. "Well, Daniel can't make it tonight either. We're on our own, my man."

Raising his face to the peaceful Colorado sky, the alien's slight smile remained un-dimmed. Nothing could ruin this evening for Teal'c. He was just pleased to be off base. These were his people now, and this was a giant step toward the trust from them that he craved.

Jack O'Neill returned home and, for once, left the sliding door fully closed. He needed to be alone without distraction. The sickening feeling that he was losing the cohesion of his team was at the forefront of his attention. When he had asked Daniel to join them, the archeologist had stated distantly that he was too busy. And Carter was being downright and uncharacteristically secretive about her date. Neither of them seemed overly interested in making Teal'c feel welcome back planet side. This distance was unusual for the closely bonded team. Jack considered the idea that it might be time to break up the band. This team had been together much longer than any team on which he had served. But the airman quickly rejected the idea. Despite their current emotional distance on Earth, the team dynamics when operating through the Gate was still functional.

Deep in thought, Jack was oblivious to the furry gray critter sitting patiently outside the closed sliding glass door.

:-x

Colonel O'Neill looked into the earpiece of his telephone before blaring, "Carrterrr!" He tested to make sure his ear would be safe from further assault by tentatively placing the receiver back to his ear. The dead silence could only mean one thing – his favorite 2IC was self-righteously insulted by his outburst and had shut down into her hurt state. He was just glad that he wasn't in the same room to see it. His team had quickly learned that their tough CO had a soft spot and they weren't afraid to use it to their advantage. Thus, his strategic maneuver to address this situation over the telephone. Unfortunately for O'Neill, he no longer needed to see his team to see how they were reacting. If he knew his blond Major correctly, her big, blue eyes were rounded into shiny hurt saucers at being reprimanded; she was unused to and uncomfortable with any kind of censure from her CO.

The current conversation was a direct result of the incident with Orlin. The NID had been waiting for any reason to attack the SGC's administration, and the incident with Carter had provided the ammunition. The Major had disobeyed Jack's very public order to keep in radio contact, and had, instead, followed the descended Orlin out through a Stargate in her basement. The Powers That Be decided to use the incident to tighten the thumbscrews on George Hammond and the SGC by claiming a blatant lack of discipline in the ranks. Due to the NID's involvement, the President was handed a pile of manure – which he slid down onto the Joint Chiefs. They in turn promptly sent it down the chute to the commander of the SGC. The General had no choice but to make a public show of suitable punishment by confining her to base. O'Neill shook his head. It was ironic that she was finally getting a life, and now they took it away. Not that dating a technically dead Ancient was getting a life, but . . . . Considering how smart the blue-eyed powerhouse was, no mere mortal could probably earn a place at her side. Jack had to hand it to her. When she screwed up, she screwed up big.

Realizing the silence had gone on long enough, the Colonel returned to the telephone conversation with a much gentler tone. "Look Carter, I've been in hot water so many times, I can show you how to swim without having your clothing shrink." He decided the situation might need a little self-deprecating humor to ease her worries. His voice rose in pitch and cracked with off-handed sincerity when he continued. "Just lay low for a while. The next time you save their squirmy little butts, they'll forget all about this." Jack looked up to the dark wooden rafters in his living room and shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe they were making such a big deal out of this incident. After all Carter had done for this planet, . . . . He had had to do a lot of fast talking to make sure they didn't place a Disciplinary Notice in her file to mess up her spotless record. She would have been intolerable with misery about that for at least a month. He couldn't afford to have her distracted on missions by such an inconsequential thing. Truth be told, he was kinda proud of her for going against the rules, even though it meant that Carter had lied to him. He had a sudden insight and idea.

He managed to convey just the correct balance of command, humor, and hurt when he continued. "Besides, I'm the aggrieved party here. If anyone should be upset, it should be your CO who gave a very public and direct order . . . that was subsequently disobeyed, I might add." He winced at the angst he knew he would cause her with his delivery. But he needed to distract her from worrying over something about which she could do nothing. He heard a choked gasp from the receiver. A small smirk lightened his face while he waited. He didn't have long to wait.

A contrite voice tinkled from the earpiece. "Colonel. Sir, I meant no disrespect to you."

He remained silent for a pregnant pause to keep her guessing. "Ohhhh Carter! I forgot all about it eleven minutes after if happened. Let's not dwell on it. It's in the past. Hindsight is 20/20. All's well that ends well." He stared intently at a stain on his palm before ending the call on a lighter note. "Hey, if you hear from Daniel, tell him we're still on for Friday, wouldja." He abruptly ended the call knowing that he had successfully distracted her from her worries.

:-x

As Jack arrived home, he had the distinct sense that something was wrong. The lack of birdsong indicated an imbalance in nature that his unconscious mind attributed to possible danger. It was sometimes hard for him to relax on his home planet after being so diligent on another world just hours earlier. Consequently, instead of entering through the front door, Jack slunk around the side of the house. He saw nothing unusual at first glance. Something made him look under his deck. A pair of green eyes stared back at him intently before the pupils widened suddenly and jerked to the side. Jack followed the animal's pointed gaze to find . . . nothing unusual. When he looked back, the green eyes were gone. Damn, he hated when the little rascal pulled that. What he hated more was that he fell for it every time. He had to try that tactic one time when confronting an evil bad guy. He quickly dismissed this strategy as something Maxwell Smart would do to try to trick Sigfreid.

The temporary lull in nature ceased and the normal chattering of the woods returned. Satisfied that there was no danger, Jack turned to enter the back door and almost tripped over the pile of fur at his feet. Oscar didn't jump out of the way as quickly as usual. That's when Jack noticed the blood. "Ah damn it Oscar. Not again." He stepped back to survey the damage. It was apparent from his appearance that Oscar had once again seen the wrong side of a fight with another critter. Over the years the warrior gray cat had appeared on Jack's doorstep for occasional field first aid. After a little clean up, a couple easy meals, and a warm place to sleep, the scoundrel would disappear back into the wilderness. Jack wondered if this was how Janet felt every time he hobbled into her infirmary looking a little rough around the edges. He dismissed the thought – it was way too deep. Besides, he had work to do. He stooped down to pick up the acquiescent feline and gruffly commented, "Come on, the sooner we fix you up, the sooner I can eat." Despite the gruff tone of voice, the silence of his back yard rumbled with Oscar's loud purring. "Wouldja knock it off! Somebody might hear you." Impossibly, the volume of purring increased. Jack O'Neill rolled his eyes and hurried inside with the bundle of fur.

With Oscar resting peacefully, Jack had time to contemplate the latest, disturbing mission. Even now, a small part of him remembered that Lieutenant Tyler was a slim, black man who had been assigned as a member of SG-1. Jack marveled in the fact that he felt such loyalty toward someone he had never met. Somehow, the loyalty he felt toward his team was transferred to the alien. Not that it mattered, because Jack would have protected him just as fiercely had Tyler told him the truth from the start. It was the 'protecting fiercely' that was disturbing Jack at the moment. The sheer number of casualties while trying to get to the Gate added to the toll of dead by his hand. Though the airman was skilled at bringing death, it didn't mean he liked it. Every victory – every death – meant a chance that the victim could have been a member of his team. Not that he would have done anything differently while surrounded by so many Jaffa, but Jack contemplated the circumstances that had brought them into danger in the first place. Their job as the leading exploratory team placed them in potential danger. He knew that each mission was fraught with danger. As he did after each mission, Jack reviewed the successes and near failures of the mission. Part of that review included contemplation of whether the death meted out was unwarranted or unnecessary. He gave a quick nod to himself at the conclusion of the meditation as he reassured himself that the level of violence was warranted due to the sheer number of Jaffa preventing their return to the Gate.

Jack paused before rising from the couch when he replayed Daniel's earlier diatribe about returning to his peaceful archeological roots – away from the killing. With a start, he realized that Daniel, the peaceful, geeky scientist, had probably taken more lives than Jack had when they had first met. The airman slowly shook his head in denial at the mental image of Dr. Daniel Jackson wearing the beret of Special Forces while wearing the frighteningly cold look of a killer. But Jack couldn't escape the fact that the mousy archeologist had changed. He closed his eyes and sighed his grief at the loss of innocence in his friend and colleague. Daniel's rejection of the military made more sense now. This last mission spotlighted the violence that the young scientist was trying to avoid. O'Neill vowed to assist Daniel in re-finding himself as much as possible – as long as it didn't risk safety.

While still sitting, Jack contemplated the fact that Daniel probably thought he didn't listen to him. The airman remembered all the times Sara had thrown her hands up in frustration at her husband's lack of outward response to her verbal expressions of feelings. But just like in his marriage, the airman heard every word spoken by his friend and colleague; it just wasn't his way to be overly sentimental by acknowledging that he cared. He assumed they knew his feelings because he stuck around. Wasn't it obvious?

Oscar was startled as O'Neill exclaimed, "Gah!" The airman quickly reassured the cat with a gentle pet. Getting back to his line of thinking, Jack squirmed inside at the discomforting thought of 'expressing' his emotions. He would rather face down the Joint Chiefs – wearing his underwear! He vowed to work on his friendship skills. How hard could it be? His eyes glazed over with resignation – it was Daniel he was dealing with. But the O'Neills were never ones to back down from a challenge . . . unless you counted the time with Aunt Rose. With a sigh of resignation, he got up to prepare for the evening.

SG1SG1SG1SG1

While looking down through the observation window at the writhing body of his friend, Jack O'Neill contemplated all the opportunities he had missed over the past months to tell Daniel about what their friendship meant to him. And now time was swiftly running out. There was no rescue this time. His best friend was dying before his eyes and there was nothing Jack could do about it. Though no stranger to the pain of losing close friends, it never got any easier. He vowed that this time it would be different. No locker room pats on the back, no jokes to diffuse close moments, and no words left unsaid. He would do it Daniel's way – the way Daniel wanted – needed. O'Neill moved down the stairs with determined, slow steps. His expression was grim. Looking older than he had that morning, Jack's face held an expression of defeat and deep sadness. But the sadness fueled his determination to finally express what he felt for his friend. The medical personnel were used to the look of someone who needed time alone with a loved one, so they gave him sympathetic, gentle smiles before leaving the two men alone.

Jack approached the bed with trepidation. He looked over the electronic medical equipment and incongruously contemplated the fact that he could actually read the things now. What he saw didn't look so good, so he shifted his gaze to the object of the machine's measurements. Part of him hoped he could leave without having to speak, but a bigger part of him knew he needed to do this or he would regret it for the rest of his life – and he already had too many regrets.

"Hey Jack!"

Daniel's weak voice startled the airman. He hadn't expected the archeologist to be awake. O'Neill felt a great internal motivation to lighten the mood like he always did, but he squelched it down in order to complete what he had set out to do. Remembering the last coherent moments with Kawalsky many years earlier, Jack resolved that this occasion didn't deserve lightening. There was nothing to be gained by pretending this wasn't the end of a very important man's life. With deer-in-headlights eyes, Jack croaked, "Hey. I uh, I just wanted to…" Realizing that his very perceptive friend probably knew why he was here, Jack smiled and admitted, "I'm really bad at this."

"Yes, you are." Daniel's weak response confirmed Jack's self-assessment. The acknowledgment contained no judgment. "I hear that Sam thinks the Naquadria might be an important discovery."

Ah! Safe ground. Jack responded with relief. "Yeah, apparently. If we can get some. For what it's worth, I tried to get your point across to Jonas."

"He's in a tough position." Daniel appeared to have difficulty talking through the mummy wrapping of bandages.

Realizing that his friend had changed the subject for his sake, a shot of pain at the pending loss went through the Colonel's heart. It was so obvious at that moment that this man who lay dying understood him perhaps more than any other being on the face of the earth. And he was losing him by the second. Doing the thing he knew how to do best, he reassured Daniel with passion. "You're not gonna take the fall for this. I don't care what's at stake."

"Why do you care?"

The question was unexpected, but it solidified Jack's resolve to finally put into words how he felt about Daniel. "Because despite the fact that you've been a terrific pain in the ass for the last five years, I may have, might have, grown to admire you a little, I think." He winced at the closeness and strength of his own words. Yet at the same time, he was aching inside because he knew Daniel deserved more than this inept expression of friendship.

Daniel's response was sincere. "That's touching."

The airman continued, "This will not be your last act on official record." Jack was getting wound up as he found an outlet for his desire for action. He was programmed for defense.

"Oma."

Jack responded with confusion at the non-sequitor. "What?" Had Daniel just said something profound? Or was he hallucinating? A wall of dismay hit him as he saw that Daniel was no longer aware of his presence. He was mumbling and reacting to a world that Jack couldn't see. His long military experience gave Jack the unwanted distinction of having seen a number of people dying. Eerily, sometimes the dying person would seem to be holding a conversation with people in the afterlife. Was Daniel already gone? Jack wondered if this was going to be the last coherent conversation he would have with his friend?

Despite the very exposed public room, Jack O'Neill deflated onto a nearby stool. He no longer had the energy to stand. He no longer had the energy to wear an unaffected mask. The beginnings of grief were bleeding his strength. Had anyone been able to see his face at that moment, they would have seen an unfamiliar sorrow. It's not that Jack O'Neill was unfamiliar with sorrow; it's just that it was usually kept hidden. He wasn't ready to let his friend go. Not like this. Daniel deserved more. The silver-haired man felt like he had just been sucker punched. All the fighting in the world wouldn't bring back his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the window above the deathbed. He nodded acknowledgment to General Hammond before rising from his seat with a heavy heart.

:-x

Jack mostly felt numb. This loss was so much more devastating than any he had felt in a while. He had vowed not to get close enough to anyone to risk being hurt so badly again. So he clung to the knowledge that he wouldn't have to say goodbye to this friend. Daniel wasn't dead. If it was a false hope, then so be it. He could escape the pain and loss. All he had to do was keep busy. Jack carefully picked up the cat from his lap and gently placed him on the floor. He didn't pause as he went to grab his gear to report back to the base. What he and the rest of SG-1 needed was to go back out there on a mission. If he kept busy it wouldn't hurt so much. If he kept busy, grief wouldn't have a chance to settle into his being. If he kept busy, maybe he could pretend his friend wasn't gone.

TBC


	7. Year Six

Oscar

Year Six

The hot, sweet scent of the lush grasses cooked up from the ground in the hot sun. Insects buzzed at the tops of tall stalks busily gathering nectar from nearby flowering plants. An occasional distant insect loudly sounded its mating call as the symbiotic relationship between insect and plant continued. A warm breeze ruffled the tall grasses in a sports stadium wave of cheering that rumbled flowingly from one end of the field to the other. Tall bushes tottered as they got to the end of their reach and gently snapped upright to be pushed away again by the persistent wind. The surrounding tall trees beckoned the two travelers closer in their towering watch over the scenery. O'Neill looked deceptively calm as he almost silently walked through this bucolic environment, but he was primed to trigger lightning reflexes to point his P-90 at any danger. His unarmed companion trudged behind with equally quiet stealth. The two men mirrored silent moves of caution as they sought high vistas from which to view more of the unfamiliar landscape.

As the hours passed, their movements grew less cautious. The lack of evidence of any man-made danger reduced the need for the exhausting vigilance needed whenever performing recon of new planets. Though he knew the man behind him could take care of himself, the leader of this search for friend or foe took his role as protector seriously. He contemplated giving the man a weapon, but quickly dismissed the idea. As time went on, the noises from his companion began to become louder and more frequent. The sound of a clumsy stumble behind him caused the Colonel to shoot a quick glare to the culprit. His companion mouthed a silent and completely insincere, 'Sorry' before signaling with a benevolent wave of his hand that he was ready to proceed. Jack slowly withdrew his glare as he returned his gaze to the potentially hostile environment in front of him.

:-x

It became obvious after hours of recon that they were the only people in the immediate vicinity. They had found no evidence of recent habitation and O'Neill's anger at his situation grew. It didn't help that the reason for their situation had started to become much more vocal as time passed and their hunger grew. They had silently agreed to turn around and walk back to their original camp, but the three-hour trek of the area meant that they had a long walk back. Jack's P-90 now hung loosely from the strap over his shoulder as the threat of danger was reduced.

"So Jaaack! Why do you have a cat hanging around your house?" Maybourne smirked with pleasure when O'Neill spun around quickly at the non-sequitur. Harry was quite pleased with himself that he had gotten a reaction out of the unflappable airman. He continued with a pseudo simpering voice. "You know . . . you really should keep your back door closed." He continued with a roughening tone. "Those pesky felines have a way of getting right in there. You know what I mean?" The annoying man had corkscrewed his fist across his chest in punctuation. "I think the furball's actually been in your house a couple times . . . that I know of." His head waggled quickly side to side in pleasure as he revealed this tidbit of information. He had an unending source of intel obtained by spying. These were the moments of pleasure that he lived for. Since childhood, the renegade Colonel had learned that he could get attention by privately sharing information that shouldn't be shared in public. He had also learned that people would do a lot of things for you to keep that information quiet.

Jack continued his perusal of the bushes in front of him – seemingly unaffected by the conversation. The tightening of his hand around his P-90, however, revealed a bit of the agitation he was feeling.

This motion wasn't overlooked by the ever-observant Maybourne as he smirked. His oily voice continued at a slow, simpering rate. "Wellll, since you don't actually own a caaaat, I guess you won't mind this." Before continuing, Maybourne smirked behind his companion's back. "Your neighbor came up to me the other day – you know, that old man next door? Barnes is it? Well, anyway, he told me he thought he ran over a gray cat with his car." He got Jack's attention as the airman swiftly turned around with dangerous eyes fixed on the traitorous Colonel. "Jack, I asked him what the cat looked like." Knowing that he had Jack's full attention, Maybourne pantomimed the old man's response as a dead cat with tongue lolling out of its mouth.

Jack sneered in annoyance, but continued to glare in disbelief at his annoying companion.

Maybourne continued. "I told him, 'No, what did it look like before it died?'" After a pause with a completely straight face, Maybourne pantomimed a cat screeching with claws up.

Jack turned around in disgust and stalked away.

He missed the self-satisfied grin of pleasure that started and remained on Maybourne's face. Harry reveled in the fact that it wasn't easy to get such a rise out of the goody-two-shoes airman. He placed a tick mark on his virtual scoreboard. Belatedly, he realized that he would be quickly outpaced, by O'Neill's longer gait. He scurried after the retreating back.

Harry settled back into the ground breaking pace about five feet away from O'Neill. He quickly caught his breath – a fact that he knew annoyed O'Neill further. A wicked smirk visited his face before moving on to his usually slack expression. "Hey Jack! Did you hear about the little girl who cried to her daddy? She said, 'Daddy, daddy, Fluffy is dead.' He told the little girl, 'That's okay. Fluffy has gone to heaven.'" Maybourne had placed both hands together in angelic grace. "The little girl asked her daddy, 'What would God want with a dead cat?'"

:-x

"If you throw a dead cat out of a car window, does it become kitty litter?"

After two hours of really, really bad dead cat jokes, Jack O'Neill turned around and exploded. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you shouldn't annoy someone who's carrying a loaded weapon?" O'Neill was almost to the point of shooting . . . something to relieve his annoyance. But he didn't want to waste ammo on this pestilent, pesky, penile, pri--. . . . wait, that was redundant.

Maybourne's tone was silky smooth as he raised his hands in mock supplication. "Jaaaaack! I'm just trying to lighten up the mood here." His lip curled with mocking humor. "You aren't offended, are you? I mean, why would you be? It's not like you have a cat? Right?" Maybourne looked up innocently into the intense brown eyes boring on him menacingly from three feet away. After the moment passed, Harry breathed a relieved sigh as his irate companion turned and continued on his way. Harry had lost that one.

Though upset at himself for losing his cool, Jack was glad for the silence. If only it would continue. He had time to ponder whether Harry really knew about the existence of Oscar. Despite the goading, Harry had yet to produce any proof of his knowledge. Jack's thoughts turned to food and the encroaching night. It might take Carter a while to figure out where they were, so they better get comfortable for the long haul. If he was going to be stuck on a planet somewhere, at least it was lush. Though not exactly teeming with game, he had already spied evidence of both predator and prey. They would just need to figure out how to trap them without using up their precious supply of ammunition.

Jack didn't want to give the pesky Maybourne any of his projectile weapons, but he had allowed the weasel to get away with stealing one of his grenades when they first crashed down onto this planet from the portal. The smaller man had somehow snagged the grenade while they were wrestling in the grass as they first arrived. Jack didn't want to leave the disgraced airman weaponless since the SGC had made sure he was stripped clean before they let him into the underground facility. Though O'Neill suspected Harry had a more hidden stash on his person. He wouldn't expect any less from the former Special Forces Colonel.

While Jack was thinking about their survival, Harry decided to try a different tactic. He knew the airman would never admit to the weakness for a cat. "You know, I kinda remember a gray cat from the second year when you went undercover in the NID." He couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice as he remembered Jack's duplicity. The worst part was that he had actually fallen for it. Hook. Line. And sinker. Maybourne was a man who prided himself on his ability to read people. It had saved his life on more than one occasion. Growing up in a tough neighborhood as a short, skinny runt had made it necessary to know his enemy and use any weakness to his advantage. But he had come to admire the Colonel in front of him for his steadfast belief and adherence to a code of conduct. It was refreshing after his dealings with so many crooks disguised as politicians in DC. And though uncomfortable, Harry felt compelled to earn the respect of Colonel Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill. He just didn't know how. So he offered, "You know, Simmons was in on that one. He wanted to do something pretty nasty to that cat to send you a message." He gave a sly, quick glance to the back of Jack's suddenly hunched shoulders. "But I wouldn't let them do that to Oscar. His name is Oscar, isn't it?"

Jack stopped suddenly and whirled around to face the errant Colonel with a menacing look. His rough voice crackled with anger. "What the hell do you want from me, Maybourne?" Jack's murderous, blank stare was intimidating.

Harry stopped and raised his hands quickly in surrender. "Hey, hey, hey! No need to get upset about this one. I told them it wouldn't do any good. I knew we would lose you for good if you ever found out who did it." He looked up into Jack's still glaring eyes. Harry's face wore a shy smile as he explained, "But, I made the little guy disappear for a while . . . just in case." Jack blinked in surprise and lessened his aggressive stance. Harry continued apologetically for having pushed Jack to this point. "No harm, no foul."

After a moment of silence, Jack looked away and back quickly before quietly voicing, "Thanks." His eyes looked anywhere but at the weasel Colonel. Lest the moment get too tender, Jack continued, "Come on, we have to get back to camp before it gets too dark. It'll take at least another hour to get there."

As they continued their trek back, Harry couldn't resist. Something evil inside him just had to do it. "Did you hear about the cat who ate a ball of yarn? She had mittens."

Jack sighed stoically, but consoled himself that at least the content of the jokes had changed for the better. This was going to be a long wait until they were rescued.

:-x

Jack bid adieu to his new buddy. Their time on the planet and the adventures they had shared had caused the two to bond in that unexplained way of men who used to hate each other. Like survivors of a shipwreck, they had overcome numerous challenges to their ingenuity – challenges not encountered since their roughest Special Ops training on Earth. Somehow, the drugged anguish, accidental injuries, and unrelieved pain had transformed the two former enemies into "buddies." Jack marveled that he was actually going to miss the guy. Somewhere along the way, he realized that the quirky SOB's company had become welcomed after a month with no one to talk with. Though he loved solitude, there was a limit. As he was walking out of the Tel'tak on a newly healed leg, he called out, "Hey! Take care of yourself."

Harry looked startled but grinned gratefully at the friendly parting shot. He waved a tired hand from the Tok'ra plinth. He had only undergone one session with their healing device, but it was enough to begin the return to health he would need to survive . . . out there. As Jack turned around, Maybourne called out, "Hey Jack! Take good care of Oscar. He sorta grew on me." He corkscrewed his fist across his chest. "Ya know?"

Jack smirked knowingly and nodded, then continued out to the waiting Stargate without another word. He was finally going home.

SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1

Shortly after Jack's return home from his forced vacation, old Mr. Barnes from next door engaged O'Neill in a friendly conversation. "Hey Jack, ya hear they finally caught that old gray cat that's been tormenting the neighborhood all these years. Just after you left on your last trip. They hauled him away to the Pound." The old man looked almost wistful as he commented, "I'm gonna miss that ole cat." Jack said quick goodbyes before tearing out of the driveway in his big green truck.

Mr. Barnes didn't agree with his wife that the gray cat should be put to sleep. But he knew better than to protest outright. He hadn't stayed married for 56 years without knowing when to keep his mouth shut. So he did the next best thing to rescuing the critter on his own. Sometimes he brought food over to the healing cat when the Colonel was out on another of his trips. He wondered where the military man disappeared to for weeks on end. Oh well. No use pondering what he'd never know. He shrugged while gladly watching the back of the green truck disappear down the street.

:-x

Jack hunched down in the cat room at the local animal shelter and stopped suddenly before one of the lower cages. Petulant green eyes looked accusingly at him through the grid of silver bars. Compared with the other cats in the room, it was obvious that Oscar would not have been adopted. The large scarred head, torn ears, and ferocious glare couldn't compete with the fluffy friendliness of felines in the other cages or the frisky, frolicking kittens in the larger cage at child height. As a result, the Tom was placed in a lower cage that was harder to see into. The lower height was also easier for handlers who had to wrestle with uncooperative animals. Jack suspected the animal had put up quite a fight when placed in the cage. Evidence of the struggle littered the inside. The newspaper base layer was shredded and the side of the plastic litter box was scarred from the frantic feline's frenetic efforts to free himself. Jack looked at the label on the cage. His low groan almost sounded like a growl.

Oscar's fur was huffed up and hot with anger and betrayal. It was about time Warm Tall came to get him. He was beginning to get worried that he would never get out of this stinking hole he was trapped in. He knew he should never have trusted humans. The metal house with the free food seemed too good to be true – and it was; he would never be fooled by it again . . . if he ever got out of this predicament. Oscar looked pointedly at the clasp that opened the cage, and then he looked up into his friend's face. Maybe the human would get the hint. Not for the first time, he wished he had paws like humans so he could open things like cans and more importantly, doors. He lowered his head with disappointment when the human rattled the cage door, but it didn't open. Oscar quietly growled his frustration. He would have to wait until his friend figured out how to open the cage. If only he could communicate to him how he observed others opening it.

Jack marched up to the office to begin the process of freeing the stray from captivity. Time was pressing since the place closed at 5pm and it was already 4:50pm. There was an irate man in front of him. The large, stocky man was pacing in front of the desk of a small, placidly unaffected animal control officer. Jack gave the pacing man the name of Bruno while the small, but cocky, spectacled officer he named Barney Fife. Said weasel obviously liked the power he exerted over the bigger man and he flaunted it nervously with his nose raised superiorly.

Bruno, meanwhile, menacingly pounded on the desk as he shouted, "I want the damn dog. We already established that he's mine." He was leaning forward with both fisted hands encroaching upon Barney's desktop.

The self-righteous dog officer smirked, but fluttered his hands anxiously through his paperwork. Civility guaranteed his safety from the much bigger patron, and he had the upper hand. For all the times he was bullied by such . . . bullies, he intoned, "It's not our problem if you can't keep your dog inside the yard like the law requires." He hoped the ape before him understood the emphasis on the word 'law.'

Trying a different tactic, Bruno leaned back to stand on his feet at a less threatening distance. He crossed his arms and admitted, "It wasn't my fault. One of the kids opened the gate by mistake." He almost whined, "Come on, man. Let me have my dog. I'll make sure he doesn't get out next time." His face was much friendlier as he cajoled.

Unconsciously, Barney unfolded his arms and his face closed down into a stern mask. "I'm sorry." Though he wasn't. "We can't let him go until you promise to neuter him. We have a problem with strays and people like you contribute to all the animals we have to euthanize every year."

Bruno boomed, "No one's touching my dog's nuts!" His tightly fisted hands were back on the desk.

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as the argument continued. He efficiently flipped the protective cover off his watch and noted that five minutes had gone by. The tag on Oscar's cage said that his 30 days were up tomorrow. Jack busied himself by looking around the facility in the remaining time that he had. Barney was winning the argument and it appeared that the contracted veterinarian for the city would get another animal to neuter. By the time closing time arrived, Barney was finalizing the unsuspecting dog's scheduled operation. As Bruno left, Barney suddenly remembered to look for the man who had been waiting, but found an empty room instead. He shrugged indifferently. He would be back. The only way to get their precious animals back was through good ole Barney.

:-x

Jack scratched his head thoughtfully. He had a meeting in the morning with the new Russian team. If that wasn't irritating enough, he was now under the gun to get to the animal shelter to quickly retrieve Oscar and then get to his meeting. He pondered requesting time off from his CO. After all, he had just returned from a month-long mission. But the General had insisted that he needed the ranking SG team leader to make sure the Russian team followed protocol when out on their own. Jack sighed in frustration while scrubbing his head furiously. His hair was much shorter after a much-needed haircut and the feel of the bristles were a somewhat calming sensation on his palm. His hand suddenly stilled mid scrub as a thought crossed his mind. A devilish smile crept across his face. He sat in silence while he planned his strategy.

:-x

Ironically, only a cat or other nocturnal animal could see the black clad figure stealthily slinking around the buildings in the woods behind the animal shelter. The place was secluded from its nearest neighbor by a mile. No one wanted to live near the loud raucous barking – no one except the caretaker slash animal control officer who lived on the premises in a small house trailer. He was busily preparing a late-night snack when the dogs began to bark loudly. He frowned and turned up the volume on his old black and white television. The classic television show Lassie was featured in an all-night marathon of episodes on one of the local stations. He hadn't seen the show in years. Anticipating good stories with a lot of morality, he turned up the volume and settled in for a relaxing night alone.

Jack easily picked the lock on the office door to gain access to the inner cat room. The barking dogs couldn't be helped. He would just have to hope that Barney would think it was a natural occurrence. The Special Ops officer didn't want to risk turning on a light, so he relied on memory and the really cool infrared glasses he had in his hidden stash of home tools. You never knew when you might need to pull a job on the sly. He easily made his way to the back room and leaned down to the lower cage. Once again, he envied the feline ability to see in the dark without the need for awkward special equipment. He unlatched the cage and reached inside. Oscar picked that moment to scream his rage and frustration.

:-x

Barely hearing his movie over the barking dogs, Barney decided to investigate what sounded like a scream of pain. Remembering the irate dog owner, he reached for his pistol. He had only had to fire the gun once in response to a rabid dog, but he was always ready for anyone who tried to break into the facility. He took his title of "officer" seriously and practiced target shooting often. He certainly had plenty of time and room to practice out here in the middle of nowhere.

The animal control officer crouched down and opened his door carefully. He stealthily crunched his way across the gravel to the source of the ruckus. He thought he heard a noise coming from his office. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his keys. He awkwardly fumbled with the gun in his other hand as he tried to stop the rattling of metal against metal caused by his shaking hands. He found the keyhole without too much trouble and quietly opened the door. Barney lost control of the door when he accidentally kicked the bottom of the door making it crash into the chair used as a doorstop. He cringed and hunched further. Deciding that a lit room would be better than a dark room, Barney flipped on the switches quickly – hoping to startle anyone inside. He heard more noises coming from the back of the building, so he ran and hid behind the doorway. He wondered how the television detectives stilled their racing hearts. He could barely hear anything over his own heaving breaths. Grabbing his handgun with both hands, he turned into the doorway and saw . . . nothing.

He giggled nervously in relief. There was nowhere else for anyone to hide in this building . . . unless, they were in the bathroom. His eyes widened and he turned quickly while swinging his gun behind him. He slammed the bathroom door open to find . . . nothing. Sheepishly lowering his pistol, Barney went back to investigate the source of all the original disturbance. There it was. The old gray cat that was scheduled to be put to sleep was eyeing him with intense hate. The animal still hadn't forgiven him for removing him from the bottom cage and swapping places with another cat from an upper cage. It hadn't been easy for either of them, but it was something that Barney did to ease the guilt. The new cage was a palace compared to the lower abode. He always placed the animals that were scheduled for euthanasia into luxury accommodations with more room and the best food. It was the least he could do for the poor critters.

"Hey there fella. Are you doing okay?" Piercing green eyes of hate met his. As the human moved closer, he was met with flattened ears and a threatening hiss. This didn't change Barney's opinion or resolve to provide comfort to the death row inmate. He knew the wild animal was just reacting to his forced captivity – a captivity that had lasted for over a month. Actually, he was supposed to have already put the animal down, but Barney fudged on the date. The rough animal kinda grew on him. He admired the strength and resolve in the face of hopelessness. It was a trait that the mousy officer admired. Barney sighed with regret. He had hoped that someone would come to claim the critter at the last hour. But it was too late. The vet would pick him up along with the dog scheduled to be neutered first thing in the morning. With a gentle tone, he said, "Get some sleep." He pondered staying up with the critter, but his heart couldn't take it. He had already had to put so many animals to sleep during his tenure as animal control officer. With a heavy sigh, he closed the door to the cat room and left the building. As Barney locked the outside door, he didn't notice the dark figure watching him from the roof above.

Jack had his glove off and sucked his bleeding finger. How the hell could he have known that, instead of Oscar, the lower cage had been occupied by an ill-tempered Siamese with a thing for hands? He shook his head and waited for Barney to settle back in front of his television. After a short wait, Jack let himself down skillfully from the roof on the distant side of the building in order to lessen the noise. He waited patiently as his heart beat strongly with excitement. It had been years since he had done a solo mission and he realized that he missed it. Even though his team would have been welcome on this one, he didn't know how he could explain to Hammond how he risked taking two aliens and an AF major on a mission to rescue a cat. He didn't think his CO would understand that Oscar was now part of his team. An insane image of Oscar wearing a green cammo hat flittered through his mind. He shook the thought away. It was time to get back to his rescue mission.

After a brief search for his feline friend's new cage, Jack undid the latch on Oscar's door. He reached in gingerly only to have his hand butted with a large grey head. He grasped surely onto the skin at the back of Oscar's neck and then placed him into his backpack. He gave the feline a couple pets before almost completely zipping up the bag. He quickly donned the carryall and retraced his steps to get out of the building. This part went much more smoothly. On his way out, he considered rescuing the dog due to be neutered the next day, but dismissed it since Barney already had the owner's address.

Jack opened up the sack as he closed the door of his truck. He carefully placed the bag in his back seat before starting up the huge engine of his F250 truck. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief before putting the truck into gear to drive home.

Oscar peered out of the sack, but decided to settle back into the shelter. It had brought him good luck so far by getting him out of the hell-hole. Plus, it smelled just like Jack. He thought back to the events of the past hour. It had been close. When Jack had reached for him in the other cage, Oscar decided to call out loudly to get his attention. He had feared the pansy Siamese with the attitude would get to go home with Jack, so he shouted out his protest. But all that was behind him now. With the beginnings of a very happy purr, Oscar rode home in luxury.

:-x

The house was dark when Sam, Teal'c, and Jonas arrived. Jonas' face held the perpetual smile of someone who was about to experience his first Stargazing party. His enthusiasm wasn't dimmed as he asked, "Major Carter? Maybe we have the wrong day."

Sam looked at him unbelievingly as she responded yet again. "No Jonas. We don't have the wrong day." She rang the doorbell again and followed it by louder knocking. "Maybe he's out back." She gestured for her teammates to follow her around the side of the house. It was obvious that there was no activity in the backyard. Sam cautiously approached the sliding glass door closely followed by the smiling alien. They both peered inside to an empty house. Sam rapped on the glass sharply.

They were intent on listening through the door, when Sam noticed that Teal'c was no longer with them. In fact, he was nowhere in sight. She nudged Jonas and they returned to the front of the house. There they found Teal'c waiting patiently as Jack O'Neill debarked from the truck, which he had pulled into his extra-large garage. They could hear the ticking of the hot engine as it cooled – letting them know that he had just returned. The Colonel was pulling out a backpack from the cab behind the driver's seat.

It didn't appear that he knew they were there because he jumped when Teal'c boomed, "O'Neill!"

"Argh!" Jack put his free hand over his heart. "Don't do that."

Teal'c looked unrepentant. "Are you attempting to steal into your home, O'Neill?"

Jack looked at the expectant faces of the rest of SG-1. Jonas' smirk irked him more than usual . . . probably because he had been caught. "Oh yeah!" Suddenly realizing why they were there, he continued, "Hey! We're going to have to take a rain check on tonight's shindig. I have . . . other plans."

It didn't appear that they were going to let him get away that easily. Carter was the first to ask the obvious. "Sir, why are you dressed like that?"

Jack looked down at himself while holding the bag away from his body. He acted surprised by his totally black attire. "Oh! These old things. I was just on my way back from . . . uh" He waved his hand in the air airily.

Carter was giving him a dubious look. Whatever he was about to say, she wasn't buying it. "Sir, you look like you've come back from a mission . . . without us." Her voice managed to accuse an unearned mistrust.

At that moment, the bag that was dangling midair decided to squirm. Sharp claws punctured the side of the nylon backpack and a furry face appeared momentarily from the unzipped opening. Jack quickly shuffled the backpack closed. That only intensified the squirming and a loud, but muffled yowl emanated from within.

Three pairs of inquisitive eyes moved from the bag to O'Neill's face. His quick mind tried to come up with a plausible explanation, but he gave up. His team knew him too well. "Ah hell!"

:-x

Over a couple of warm beers and Mountain Dew for Teal'c, Jack reluctantly shared his adventure. He unconsciously stroked Oscar's back before seeing the result of his actions on Teal'c's face. Apparently, they didn't have cats on Chulak. Carter was grinning widely as she caught the look between the two. It wasn't often that they got one over on her CO.

Though not oblivious to the goings on, Jonas decided to educate his fellow alien. "Teal'c. I've recently learned a lot about the affection humans seem to have for pets. In fact, just tonight, I was watching Lassie."

Jack smiled tightly, "Ah, good show."

Sam decided to change the subject back to her original inquiry. "Sir. I still think you should have called us." He responded with silence and a raised brow that hinted at 'dumb blond.' She looked around at the two aliens and realized the trouble they would have gotten into if caught. She rethought and eagerly changed tactic. "Well, you should have called me, sir." Her voice trailed off as she realized how it would have looked to be caught breaking and entering with her CO. She mouthed a quiet, "Oh!" and looked down to the floor.

Knowing that he had won this argument, Jack decided it was safe to change the subject. "So, what new classic TV shows have you both watched?" Jack took great amusement in their exposure to Earth culture and did his best to supply them with a suitable play list.

:-x

While lying in bed later that night, Jack reviewed the day's events. He closed his eyes with regret as he faced an ugly truth. With a heavy heart, he made a reluctant decision for the following day.

:-x

Hammond was surprised when the silver-haired Colonel leaned uncomfortably into the office.

"Sir, do you have a minute?"

Hammond's curiosity was piqued after the airman closed the door behind him for privacy. The general was already expecting a visit from Jack, but he though it would start with an outraged burst due to the scheduled meeting with the Russians later in the day. The closed door was a puzzle since the Colonel usually didn't care who heard what he had to say. The wizened general questioned, "Colonel?"

Twisting a pencil from Hammond's desk nervously between his fingers, Jack stated, "Sir, I'd like to take a couple of days off." Since he got no response, he clarified, "For personal reasons."

Hammond's frown and pursed lips demanded further explanation. He knew the airman wanted to avoid this meeting with the Russian's, but he better have a damned good reason for doing so.

Jack knew that vague wouldn't cut it this time, so he clarified, "Sir, I need to take . . ." With a deep intake of oxygen for strength, he continued, ". . . my cat to the vet." He winced while waiting expectantly for his CO's response.

George was a little stunned. He had always pictured Jack as a dog person. He blurted out slowly with his Texas twang, "I didn't know you had a cat, Jack."

"Yeah! I, uh, picked up a stray." O'Neill adjusted his collar in discomfort. " . . . a while ago."

Hammond had to clench his jaw to keep the smile from taking over his face. His family had a long history with felines. Knowing cats, it was more likely that the stray had picked up the airman rather than the other way around. Knowing that any further conversation on the topic would only increase the airman's discomfort, the general decided to move it along. "You've certainly earned some time off, Colonel. Why don't you take the rest of the week off? I'm sure I can get Reynolds to meet with Zukhov."

"Thank you sir. Uhm. I just wanted you to know that I'm not doing this to get out of the meeting sir. I really do have . . . a cat." The last word came out as a sigh – almost as if the seasoned Colonel had just recently come to this awful conclusion.

"I believe you, son. I don't think you'd make something like this up."

Jack's only response was a half grimace and half smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Hammond stood up to signal the end of the meeting. "Good luck Colonel. Oh! And get Harriman in here on your way out."

"Yes sir." Jack paused outside the door. Accomplishing this major hurdle did nothing to alleviate his apprehension. If anything, it increased.

:-x

Jack slowly pulled his truck into a parking spot and shut off the engine. He sat for a long time in thought. A sound in the cage behind him startled him out of his revelry. Looking back, he saw Oscar lying on his side systematically washing and chewing his front paws. Wide, green eyes glanced up trustingly before they slowly blinked. Wetting one of his paws with his mouth, he rubbed the side of his face clean from ear to nose. The loud, trilling pulse of a contented purr filled the cab.

The sound of the purr drove a spike of guilt through the airman. It didn't help that he already felt an uneasy sense of betrayal. Jack turned to look at the front door of the veterinarian's office. Some primal, unspoken, male code dictated that one male did not betray another's manhood. He had started to talk this over with Teal'c, but realized that his decision was already made. He just wanted approval from another man for the choice. Jack continued to sit. He needed another minute to think this through.

Oscar wondered what they were doing here, but the moving glass house was warm, and he trusted the human. The carrier was strange, but he didn't sense any danger from it. The cat had been used to hardship most of his life, but he could get used to luxury. He wondered if he would be carried around in the royal sedan chair all the time. He fixed his trusting gaze on his companion and wondered again at how lucky he was to have such a friend.

Jack pointedly ignored the trusting look and heaved himself up before he lost his nerve. "Come on Oscar. The sooner we get in . . . /gulp/ . . . the sooner it'll be over."

:-x

"You're doing the right thing Jack." The former military veterinarian had his arm on Jack's shoulder as he ushered him out of the back room. "Your options are to keep Oscar indoors or continue to allow him freedom without the danger of fathering more unwanted kittens. It's much more humane to have this surgery than it is to put down more animals. A cat that has been a stray for as long as Oscar would hate to be caged in." Both men shared a knowing look.

Jack was relieved to have the opinion of the veterinarian – he was a former military man that Jack respected. As he walked out the door, Jack was startled to see Bruno. They guiltily avoided eye contact and both men moved on. Jack only hoped that Oscar would recover and that his personality would remain the same.

TBC

_Author's Note: My beloved kitty of 17 years passed away at the end of September. Though these last two chapters were already written months ago, I didn't have the heart to review them until this weekend. We are moving on and expecting new kitties to grace us soon. The neighborhood cats have been auditioning outside the patio door for the past month. They are such creatures of opportunity. (smile)_


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